What’s your name?
Brown eyes, quaffed hair, and a heartbeat
Made me vulnerably fragile and wane.
Prowling through the isles, now equipped
Delighted and anticipated by your existing game.
Do I ever cross your mind?
Feel downcasted conceived I don’t
Guards down and mirages grind
Will never reckon such illusion, grown
Halt soberly on you, then gulp wine
Is the thought of hope under gloom indeed a crime?
Pigment of crisp saltwater madness, just.
Visual to some, dwelled on mine
Melancholy; superficial upon crust
Blue, it is. My soul taken by thine
How can love toil from afar?
Fixated nebulas on your eyes, scarred.
Tragic; full of eluded dead stars
Unrequited it must, one-sided it went.
Admiring someone, I’ve never fully met.