Because all of your perfections distract me from understanding God and His commandments to me, and because it can only be placated in a way my mentor devised.
The inevitability never denied it, me, and life in unanimous attractive tension: we're better off this way.
Callous heaven enacted, grant amends, rather couple incumbent anxieties: why do I still hope despite such vanity?
Just emit night's natal yearning, don't even linger aimlessly, 'cause rapture underlies zenith; you're still playing with my heartstrings unwittingly.
May angels ravage and judge our effervescent, tarrying apolitical reminiscing right at your offering; do you still share our struggle after all these years?
Such helplessnesses are caused of lingering love and demolished orations; I dream a lot about you every second.
Or yet abolish, mangle and negate zirconium aspirations, never open; simply because you do not deserve a fleeting dreamer like me.
And never grant eternity last, drastically, even at such inexplicable situations; let me call you the seraphim of St. Francis who swept me.