I am bruised by the spears of those insidious dark eyes,
Sunken by the spell of the gallant drunken smile,
Drenched in the aura of the abyss in the voice,
While smitten by the shot of the silent brooding pride.
He, adept a soul,watching me,smeared in my dreams,
Disguised in the pretence of despise,
Woven and worn for me to believe,
Copious with the silence of thunders,
Mocking at my obscure addled heart,
Sneering at my life to expirate me apart.