Lodestar, love lynch, lo and behold; there she is
Bright, but not intense as if he is there
Babble of voices, confusion in the mind
Would he say…, should she stay…?
A never fruition affection, they’re on an off-chance
Eyes contacts, heart travels and faces shy
Intended words so impossible, interesting, and disgusting… bold but shy
Like the gift of gab in Blarney Castle, they daydream of least a smile
A cold luscious kiss and warm honey caress
On sight, activated they are, ironically a stamped kiss is achieved
So tired of the sun, he needs her shine
Ash is white, the sky is low, the sun is downhill, and earth is higher
All they got is just a shriek of fiendish laughter revealing the tears inside
In silence, they mutually bid a low high goodbye.