You are the illusive beauty, tantalizing, close,
never to be grasped. Showing us the majesty, the grandeur;
You are the looking glass, such beauty, but once touched, is broke.
Shy, are you? To expose naked the world, but yourself, obscured.
You are the greatest story, the blandest bread;
of you we crave more, and yet of you we dread.
Perhaps you are a facade, a ghost, a shade!
Existing in me, empty without.
Perhaps you are an empty vase, and we, great.
But if this be true,
then my life be mute!
You may exist briefly, only lasting a fleeting moment,
But in you lay all, everything out of this head of mine;
Letting me be out there, out of my mind. Like a monument,
Making me eternal, etched in the stone of their deep minds.
I live through you, like Daphne, me Apollo,
You exist in thoughts, but it is me you show.