Blind Reach

It’s too late. I want my secret thoughts to know you, the ones I want and one of us should ask the question, what lays beneath the rose? Nevermore in a sea of desire, beyond the orient of my love if I accept love on your terms consider what belongs if only thus to thou under the circumstances destiny waits beyond the sorrow of my desire and I believe that love has no terms but to make travesty never forlorn of the most titanous thralled silhouettes evaresque.