• How art thou such an immaculate beauty
    That the very sun itself becomes of the jealous
    Of your simply stunning radiance?
    No one knows but me and you.

    It willst always be that the commons know not the beauty before them.
    The blossoming flower duped by the simple smile and sleigh of the head.

    How art thou such an intelligent being
    That the very professors are dumbfounded
    By the sheer determination
    Of thou's magnificent charicature?

    It won't always be like this.
    Someday, liberty will sing amongst the bird in the trees
    And the foxes of the wilderlands shall yowl of the magnificence in simple love
    And even the majestic deer shall dance to the music of undeniable truth.

    Love is all it ever was.
    It willst be nothing more than that.