Your emotions, perhaps,
have faltered in assuming
my love for you,
but i have loved her nonetheless...
yes, a maiden, woven
from the threads of my imagination,
never seen, never heard,
nor have i ever known sorrow for her.
yet, i have cherished her
within the silent
chambers of my heart.
for her, i write poems,
spilling tears of untold grief,
my pride blooms
in the garden of her unspoken presence,
and still, in her shy reticence,
she utters not a word...
only her...