My love has eyes as clear as summer skies,
His gaze is as warm and sweet as honey.
We share a passion pure, so free of lies,
Shakespeare couldn't depict our love justly.

And shall I compare his arms to the sun?
For nothing else could make me feel such warmth.
Into his open love I’ll always run,
But behind those crystal eyes lay a storm.

Clouded by the devil’s drink he will slur,
His honey coated words now are venom.
Raging, rushing towards me in a flurr,
I leave my bright stains on his denim.

These times my love leaves me, a broken mess.
But when he loves me, I am left speechless.