What witchcraft grips my mind?
Eyes haunting enough to blind.
Such sorrow behind which, confined,
Still so enchanting and kind,
What fascination draws me close?
Magic that stays more than a while,
Somehow somewhere time froze,
Every little time that you smile,
Once when tears trailed her cheeks,
Days spent under the lenses of dilemma,
Gone are days of her disguised soul,
Her splendour, like a French Riviera,
These rhymes are nothing without her,
Yet if only she ever knew,
There is never any other,
Every time, it's you...