If perfect beauty yet had a name wish I would that I could whisper it, that I may run to beauty stroke its sweet lips, be blinded by beauty, my sanity they would question I’m not crazy I would chime, but fooled by beauty like so many before me and so many yet to come, wish that I would crawl from it like prey from predator, my wings would soar in that I was free but never shall. Torn from less misery I should hope if I away from beauty, but a pain as fierce as death should I feel fire in my soul, if I could not touch my perfect beauty, stroke its sweet lips and whisper to it. I would live and yet die, my sun would cease to rise, yet my heart should scream if I stay and my sanity I should lose, wish I could end my eternal night but even in heaven would seem hell if I could not have my perfect beauty.