Excuse me, miss
Can I tell you how you make me feel?
Can I show you the firery feeling you give me?
Can I blow your mind?
Can I drown you with words unsaid?

Sexy, you devour me with fear,
So scared that my kneels beacons,
At the sight of royalty,
You need no crown to be adored,
Your worshipers must be in billions

Each hair strand laced with gold,
The great Rumpelstiltskin must be your slave.
I despair not the creation of perfection,
nor see illusion, but the perfect crime to sanity,
tearing down every wall of...