Unable to approach you
I am the fool in queendom's court,
Dressed with my wits at best-
With so much humor to sort
I hide behind my mask
Rosy and well refined,
A porcelain of poetry
Conceptually imbibed-
By the chain of hidden want
I am eager for a chance
To catch the light of your eyes
For a captivating glance
Should fate be my keeper
Skewing every little chance,
There is only true desire between
My heart and happenstance
Which magnetically affixes
My consciousness, by the cue:
The touch of maiden's hand
The warmth of forbidden truth
Which I bear on broad shoulders
A burden of mortal biology,
That seeks my approach-
Becoming loving pathology
Should you come to find
Your dance is much like mine,
I hope you'd be inclined
To approach me on the floor-
Of marble- solid respect
With every cherished thought,
A stairway to the kingdom
Where the battle is hard fought
