Per La Gloria D'adorarvi
He doesn't see me. To him, I am nothing save a mere shadow, invisible and unfit to be seen. I watch him. I watch him every morning as he goes to court the girl his heart craves. She is, as much as it pains me to say it, astonishingly beautiful. And she possesses a natural elegance that seems to elude most others. And, oh, how I envy her! I listen. I hear every sweet, tender word he has for her, and they nearly make me weep for jealousy. Such gentle words, which she so callously rejects, are the sole object of my desire. But, such affection will never be mine. It is for her alone, never for me.
What pain it brings me, to love him so dearly. But, alas, I find, I cannot stop! It is an exquisite sort of agony that almost makes me yearn for more. And each day I see him I am more deeply in love with him. And, I pray that one day he will realize that even he cannot win the cold, stone heart of his beloved, for when he does I will be waiting. Even should it take one hundred years, my soul will be watching him and my heart will be waiting for his to come and relieve it of this most rare and exquisite of pains.