And what of that once savage fire,
’twas rich and bold in your eyes,
deeply enflamed, ‘ere you spoke,
an emotive dance of your gaze;
where have your passions gone,
and have you now such a flame?
Your eyes once held the moon,
its light then reflected your fire,
no more than a whispered echo,
yet vast as sky to ebb the tides;
how now do you dance at night,
when tides no longer have fame?
That gaze, by which you slayed,
and tore asunder bravest of men,
that cast of your eyes in reply,
to unleash your vulnerabilities;
were it not soul deep in offer,
would it dismiss with twilight.
Yet, your offers were sincere,
no man left your side unsated,
their fond replies still haunting;
what does your heart hold now,
what of the moon is left in gaze,
and how do you greet the night?