It does not do to seek the ephemera
when the truest love is freely given
as all those who upon the earth trod
never have seen the things that lie in my anima
that weeps from wounds only mental,
the tears in the veil that hide my feelings
obscuring both them and my fears, too
so that none might know the truth.
each of my secrets hidden just so
everyone thinks that there is nothing I still
yearn for, but cannot hold.
On this, I ponder sadly,
understanding how the winds blow to and fro
rustling the leaves above you
slowly bringing my hidden secrets from under the floor
making it hard to keep myself safe from each
instance where I am reminded that love comes once in a
lifetime, and to find it truly makes a person
enchanted.