To lay in pondering of such radiance,
of what would seem utterance of mere words,
holding no true significance; only fantasy
being the dream shall be kept behind walls of black red covers.
But when to find such a moment where 'tis possible to touch the,
to hold the in my arms and have your breast
lay across my chest; oh the monotonous pounding;
I know then it is when I have touched the heavens.
Not only do I meet thy lips at the gates,
but too, your gaze fixing my love.
To be with you, behind the black red walls,
to be with you in my dreams, to be with you until we meet,
again, seems but fantasy, but 'tis true fancy.