Perfect form:

Perfect guy.

Perfect he is,

My heart could fly.

A voice of gold,

And heart, too.

He sings… sings a song.

An arrow flies through.

Staring… Staring,

He doesn’t see.

My staring continues:

A heart would flee.

To the floor,

My eyes then fall.

Sure… sure

That he will call.

Calls my mind,

Glances my way.

Trying to stop…


Eyes locked

To him.

Eyes so deep:

My control has run thin.

-Blood Staind Soul-