Your eyes mirror a beautiful obsidian of sorts,
A mischievous twinkle in deep space.
Knowing no depth in them, for there is none,
A shimmering eternity of restless black water.
Whosoever believeth their eyes be better than yours,
I dare ye! stand forth and claim the title.
Go on now, what shame is there more so
Than stealing a label that does not rightfully belong?
Your lips curve as delicately as rose petals,
A soft pink against your fair shade.
With a kind smile, a quick quirk of the corner,
Then gone again quietly, flashing a brilliant white.
Whosoever believeth their lips be sweeter than yours,
I dare ye! stand forth and model the fine curves.
Go on now, what harm is there in bursting with pride
In a lie that bears no fruitful truth?
Your charcoal hair plastered so neat and suave,
Gleaming a majestic array of colors beneath the smiling sun.
So vivid a contrast, your hair and your skin,
Portraying a hidden Yin/Yang personality of their own.
Whosoever believeth their radiance be fairer than yours,
I dare ye! stand forth and glow like the moon.
Go on now, what misfortune is there in boasting light
That is as dim and dingy as the swamps?
Your voice belongs to that of a seraph in Heaven,
A melody tuned to the finest of harmonies.
The words ring of the sound of freedom and wonder,
Dripping with melted chocolate and delicious delicacies.
Whosoever believeth their charisma be stronger than yours,
I dare ye! stand forth and make an example of the passion.
Go on now, what wrong is there in demonstrating falsely
A trait that none other can wield rewardingly?
If there was one once, they wouldn't be half the same,
As one cannot find another with the likeness of you.
Perfectly crafted from the mere wisps of a favored imagination:
Cunning, addictive, unpredictable, dangerous.
Yet sweet, kind, caring, and dare I say? -- beautiful.
If one was to find a beauty like yours,
Would they be near as beautiful?
If one was to find a prestigious power like yours,
Would they be near as powerful?
Nay! there be none near the kin of you.
Upon your presence, all should realize the rarity
Of such an occasion, for there is none other than
The power as yours, the might as yours, the beauty; O beauty...
By obsidian, rose petals, and the envying seraphs of Heaven,
There is, and alwas is, the love of your glorious dark beauty.