Under the tranquil night,
Her mesmeric voice sings.
Roses, lavenders, fairies gather
A psychedelic picture eventuates.

Down star-dappled stairs
In glamour and grace
She descends,
She, the mystical enchantress

Face, elegantly goddess-like
Eyes, ever gleaming deep brown
Skin, luminous pearly white
Lips, finely sculpted rouge

Creatures of the damned
Bow in her presence
Anger and hubrisism diminishes
Echoing of insects vanishes

Can you see her?
Can you feel her?
Can you hear her?
Can you? Can you?

The moon then shines
Never before, so brightly
Ramifications of her charm
Shadows retreat and hide

Her song, overwhelming beauty
Her soul, art of perfection
Her thoughts, undisturbed crystal clear
Her lucid voice, speaks
'I Sing for you, I Cry for you, little boy'

Admire her, I will
Love her, I will
Choose her, I will
Leave her, I will not