Enslave me

Her voice a sweet sound against my eardrums.
Her words are chaste and compared to non.
Her eyes are like two silvery shooting cannons.
Her lips a portray of untainted blistering fashion.

If I could write the beauty of my lady's smile,
A tank of ink and a forest of sheets will not suffice.
She's the emblem of my wit , the heroine of my script, the hunger of my zeal and the passion of my will.

I have not seen a lady as beauteous as she.
She makes the night as lit as the sun and place the day in greatest envy.
She's the empire of lights and not the moon nor stars will dare to disobey nor conspire indeed.

When I first saw her the earth seems to be a den of silence.
My urges and senses heightened by my frightened gazes
A 'being' as pure and more angelic than those in heavenly places and my 'wish' like a wounded lion has eversince enslave me.

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