I shall speak not a word
for to utter yon forsaken words
would be to make an ass of myself
for there art not enough letter
in the English language
to spell out the thoughts
that race through my mind
it shall be morrow
before the entanglement of thought
has been made comprehensible
I pray thee, kind sir, would stay
and leave not 'til the east explodes
with a nonpareil light
not even bright enough
to compare to the dazzling light
that dances within thine eyes
stay, my knight, stay hither with me
for together we shall wait out the night
to find words hidden in the morn
words made of letters know yet to none
these words which I shall speak
but I fear this impenetrable darkness
shall n'er succumb to the glorious sun
and thee shall stay no more
thee shall leave and forget
n'er again to think of the maiden who sits
sits and waits for the morrow
a morrow she continually hopes will come
I shall n'er forget thou
for, unknown to thee, thee is my knight
thee doest fights off the demons
who try to grip my heart
pushing back the cold darkness
with the warmth of thy nonpareil smile
a smile through which
thou speaks yet thou says nothing
for thy silence says enough
the silence behind that brilliant smile
is the highest form of flattery
that smile, oh that smile
the catpurse of that which beat within me
the brush that bepaints my cheeks
with this maiden blush
though I shall only baffle myself
I shall try to be nothing but audacious
for if morrow shall not come
I shall speak with only that
which I presently have
nay, brave knight,
this charactery wilt not say it all
but it will speak a few words more
for my heart shall surely burst
if these words art left unspoken
merely enough to say
my heart is bestraught
for it holds the world at a standstill
it prays for the morrow
to speak with a tongue so advanced
yet it pleads with the merciful sun
to n'er again grace the sky with its presence
for to n'er again see dawn break the horizon
would mean that thou wilt stay with me
until the morrow that the merciful becomes just
and the greedy heart is doused in light
as the maiden blush is thrust into the sun
and still no words come
only broken music
to which I wilt sing along
