Mysterious stranger of the night,
Did you drop down from the sky?
Is it that the heavens might
Have heard my feeble desperate cry?

Your eyes seem to hold the stars,
Sparkling with their bold designs,
Like fireflies that are trapped in jars,
Burning through obscure confines.

Do they sense my bewilderment?
At the sound of your honey voice?
Toward which I orient,
Unperceptive of the noise,

Your intoxicating fragrance,
Engulfs my eager drunken mind,
So in tune to your fine cadence,
For your poems are a rare find.

Flowing through your pearly teeth,
A string of words around my neck,
Insidiously strangling me,
Though I still gallop when you beck.

You soon became the air I breathe,
In my lungs did you I crave.
Through your lips did poison seethe,
But your desertion sired my grave.

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