All these years, I have been held as a prisoner of time and fate,
Broken yet undaunted.
Surrendered to depression, which welcomed me with open hands,
Rejoicing in solitude, living my life like a mime.
Then came my mistress, a nightingale, with her silvery voice.
She took control of my life;
She became the heart of my poetry. You can see her name
Resonating in every line—
The rhythm that turned my vanilla stories
Into romantic verses.
The one who made me go bonkers—now I am speaking to fireflies.
I love her more than in a million ways,
Hoping I could live another day
To tell her I loved her more than I could ever display.
The lustrous stars in her eyes behold a tale;
Every time I hear it, my soul turns pale.
I long to kneel before the immortal one,
To ask if I could appeal for a final heal—
So that I might reveal my love to her…