To You.

I'm a...romanticist at a distance,
only seeing never touching, watching thee.
Time betrays me as it slays me, I exacerbate my condition.
Not quite feeling, thoughts I'm stealing, dreaming thee.
I arrange some possibilities, they disolve into obscurity.
I'm a pilgrim in a landscape only talked about in passing,
barely moving, always reaching, wanting thee.

As I look at thine eyes..
Thou hath not seen my existence
Lest faith turn to despair.
Do I have to bleed, to make thy heart understand?
Do I have to continue to suffer?
Oh how would thee realize? For Thou hast life is thou lovest thee!