My Beloved.
O' how have I longed for you my mysterious rose, if only you knew the affection I have prepared for you.
Your identity a mystery remains to me, but I await the day you emerge, relieving me of the trifling years of patience I had endured anticipating you.
The seeds of your love have long been planted in the core of this bludgeoned heart, and within I have seen you sprout.
The fragrance you disseminated within me, so strong, I can taste the sweetness of your aroma.
My beloved you are the wind which the chimes dance to exuberantly, the breeze which relieves the heat of the scorching summer sun;
The light which comforts me in the darkest nights, when the moon goes into its occultation, you are the twinkle which creates a twilight.
Although anxious I am to finally meet you and asunder my conspicuous angst, which has left me like an infant seeking to be cradled by their mother, haste not my dear.
You are a spark of vigorous fire, which with time is enkindled greater.
Perhaps I may perish before my eyes gaze upon your empyrean aura, disheartened I am not by this reality;
Indeed my beloved you are ethereal.