Once upon a time. . . . A very important person, in my life, called me a "virus."
This wasn't so bad until one day i got a glimpse of something "breathtaking."
It was a black rose, covered in thorns, in a field of red roses.
I got a look at this object once through a telescope.
At once i couldn't advert my gaze. In this field stood an object, shimmering in the moonlight dripping the first sign of morning dew.
As time moved on i became infatious. Not of something flashy, or flamboyant.
No more of a specimen, that didn't even know its beauty had me " on strings like some puppet"
"Now understand that i have never given in too anything closely resembling obsession, captivation, fascination."
I won't go so far too say I'm incapable of being seduced, But i never thought i wasn't incapable of breaking a bond, In fact i usually liked them too much to dare, But even i. . . . can be proven wrong.
I must of lost . . . 2 many hours of sleep till the moment i could take no more. Literally. . . I came flying out of bed one night, mind in a whirl, body covered in sweet, heart beating out of my chess.
Fear or excitement i could not tell thee.
I went into the woods got lost so many times, lost so much time, all for something i knew was worth me dying too recover.
When i came upon the field, there minding it's own almost incapable of knowing of my existence stood the rose.
Like a boy, afraid of his shadow i stared at the thorns, But like a man Who knew too many a sorrow.
I gripped the stem, blood leaking down the body of this spell inducing object, I picked my flower.
The blood of a virus now drenched this infatuation: I should of mention that "virus" i stated means when I'm near you, you stay near me.