The Lover Poem by Medea Kali

Nastassya, you stand laughing at my foolery
My morbid obsession of thee
Among fallen women, you say; but
Thou art the princess of my dreams

First I came to thee with burning passion
Thy majestic sight, thy classis fall from grace
Aphrodite; bewitcher of my existence
You looked away; a cruel blow to a boy’s dream

I follow thy trace where’er thou goest
Tormented by envy, blinded by fear
Of you fleeing my frail dreams
I shower thee with gold; yet you escape from me