My Queen,
Walk into my wax palace
And peer into my eyes.
Words will melt away
As the lamps will light
themselves
On their pedestals
And the wax won’t melt
away.
The bow will play on the
taut violin strings,
And a whole orchestra
will resonate
In the background,
gently, lovingly.
The chalices will fill
themselves.
We will drink with our
eyes.
The angels of love will
blush
Behind the lamps on wax
pedestals;
The demons of darkness
Will blink from yonder.
My Queen,
Walk into my wax palace
Where words have no role
to play.
Beautifully written.
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