Mysteriously you came by,
None of the name from the fame.
Sat beside like a crawling snail,
So did I with passing trail.
Melted you did, the stone in me,
One that was I, not that I ain’t.
Thou art of magic, a muse’s cloud.
You the passing rain became the sand of my land.
Said from the times of past,
Sculpt was the bind of snow.
Stand you did, by the ending seashore,
Noisy by the chaos’s glow.
Thought you did, it’ll never end,
I sung my the ring’s sting.
Precious did say about a lost war,
Unlike the one that wasn’t fought.
Merrier they were less than the worried self,
Like the stands of a grassed graze.
Autumn did to the winter leaves,
The spring of the morning’s night.
Mine I said to taken time,
Not unless in the other spot.
Fix did the lined cage,
spills that stain the lemoned eyes.