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Prayers
You've no idea just how much
 I pray for you, Beloved.
 
 No; not for you (to be with me
 [though I'd gladly be, really]),
 just wherever you'd be happy
 (with She)
 in Him.
 
 Where your confusions (and illusions)
 be shattered by the Divine Criterion:
 that you are so special, dearest one,
 to me,
 to Him.
 
 Where all the worldly World's lies
 in futility sinks and sighs,
 and [by] Evidences [evicted] will depict
 your purpose
 for Him.
 
 Beloved, you've not a clue
 just how much I pray for you.

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