The mesmeric beauty of that woman
Teases by racing your heartbeat
But not before leaving you awe-struck
Breathless and fighting for words
Because how do you describe or define
What you yourself can`t wholly grasp.
Maybe, dressed in flesh, she`s a lost seraph
For such divinity is unknown to mortals.
That majestic curve,
Of her eyebrows, nonpareil
Of her roseate lips, sublime
The perfect line which runs
Perfectly from her neck through her torso
And finishes at her toes; deific.
Oh when she smiles or laughs
So alluring and inviting.
Like a fallen leaf tapped in a storm
I wander with a faintest winds of hers
And how my darkness melts into
The fragrance of a delightful dawn.
I amaze myself with my
Deeds of benevolence and nobility
And surprised with the strange emotions
I experience by an accidental caress of hands.
I want to believe in Almighty
Everytime I look at her
For many miserable souls like me
Drift aimlessly and helplessly
Craving for just a merciful and comforting hand
But I`m blessed with a piece of her love
And a tiny chamber in her heart.
Dear Benison, dear Beauty,
In my vespertine prayers to your creator
I mostly implore, to see you
Closer than any spirit ever has
For you`re the root of my poesy
That astounds me and outdoes
My every afore scripted verse.

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