I found you breathtakingly incredible
Till amazing dreams became fable
“Make haste” I said crossly
To my heart when things are nasty;

Perhaps the days of merrymaking
Could be better spent on faking
“Hurry on!” I said again
When both of us grown fond of rhyming

“Do not weep,” you say;
“Doing you is a drug to keep.”
But I wept, you said;
“And those nasty dreams we feed.”

For fond is the road to come,
But my will? Never done.­­­