Poem By Elcypher_My Fancy [ II ]

II
'Twas she with glassy eyes
That treaded my little bower
And, with her did the sun
Bade my woes good riddance...

But, If I fail to ever recall
Hit my soul with gentle affection
Tell to her that dreams will greet me
Even when all vanquish for fancy.

Aye,
'Twas she in all cherubim
That planted the moon on my soul.
Herald to her that I'll steal the twilight,
Before she ascends to the heaven.
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*El cypher.*