She welcomed me in a place so distraught,
yet her welcome refurbished the hut so luxurious.
Such bounties are for those who earn them;
a lucky fool I am to be close to her embrace,
for she was the basil for my ailing;
the wings for my flight;
the breath for my life.
But it was such;
she was blessed a good heart for little wealth,
an enchanting presence for a humble abode,
an inquisitive mind for little education;
she was balanced yet the scales tipped
such that life was a fraught belonging.
But dismayed not, a blissful existence;
her smile like the sparkling stars
that leave you in wonder why the Almighty
created something so beautiful yet out of grasp.
But today I mean to grasp those lights
right out of the sky and clasp to my heart.
She was lonely, but then again so are the stars.
Thus I wish to pull her down to escape that prison.
She is an ocean, exposed yet hidden;
calm yet thrashing;
a blue veil, veiling all the colors contained.
Her moods make one want to search,
to know the depths within these waters
so that if the time comes,
when the sea is in rage and turmoil,
one knows the charm that calms the waves;
controls them and the life within,
so that no harm comes to new life
or to the sea, for it shall remain a necessity
for your sustenance of the soul.
Her words too registering soothing and calm,
the rustling wind through the trees
before autumn; as if a thousand whispers
whispering thoughts that, though you don't get,
you wish to keep listening till your last breath.
Then the leaves fall off so gracefully
with maybe a slight twirl;
tracing a path with delicacy,
adding to those already fallen.
And then when the wind blows
the whispers rise and fall with a melody
a sad yet sweet melody,
narrating tales of princes meeting their maidens.
She is humble; in covering and within,
her humility like the clouds,
obscuring from the naked eye
the bright beams of the sun
so that no harm does come to the eyes
and so that one does not truly see
the nature and magnificence
that the Almighty created the sun with.
Thus magnificent, like the sun she is,
covering herself in numerous shrouds.
Her intentions pure and flawless;
flawless for me; one made of flaws.
Such that if the grail she hands to me
is of a poisonous concoction
but aware I am not and neither is she.
I shall still sip from that grail and laugh,
and be it death upon my doorstep,
I shall not complain to the angel
for I know with poison my fate was entangled
yet her intentions were still pure and flawless.
But a being such as her is a bounty;
does a man like myself deserve it?
Would I have brought justice to this creation or
would I have repeated the mistakes of man?
Though selfish I was and generous she is
I pray; but not that she accepts
the invitation that I am unable to now give
but for mankind to be able to bring justice upon her.
For my spectral existence in her hut
means a lot to both me and her.
For I reminded her on my deathbed
I shall remain by her side;
the basil had given me life
which allowed my ghostly existence to reside in her hut.
Thus she welcomes me everyday
in a place so distraught yet welcoming,
with an empty, broken cup on the small table.
She sits opposite to me with a smile
hoping I shall hold her once again and smile.
Knowing it shall not happen yet hoping.
A fool like me, given her embrace,
I truly am a lucky fool.
But a fool that still hopes that this maiden
is given love and justice I was unable to give.