Why sweet girl?
What have you done to this poor boy? Why did you do that to this poor boy?
How did he fall under the impression of your love? How could you treat him this cold?
Stricken with love, his heart you are depleting of the hope of his dreams. His utter destruction he is unaware of.
The simple glimpse of you brightens his world with the blessed light of Aphrodite. The euphoria of tens of thousands Shakespearean sonnets.
When will he wake up of this trance of your saccharine love?
When will he be blown to his knees screaming in anguish?
When will he yell out w***e in sheer desperation?
When will he take the steps of Pallas and walk his way of life?
Why will he not wake up?
Sitting there. With a tear in his eye and an agonizing smile on his sprained lips.
Leave him here. Here in his purgatory of love. His remains will be deteriorated by him self in this shallow House of W****s.