The thoughts twisted and turned,

running circles, until they returned to you.

It proved impossible to convince

The unbased admiration to cease.

The heart still stutters and cheeks flare

Any time I get a glimpse of you.

The mind whispers sarcastic comments,

Having a blast at the expense of naive longing,

and presumptuous desire.

God knows what the hell you’ve got,

But it never fails to set imagination on fire.

Oh, the dreams! Cursed, naughty dreams

That makes the core recoil and tremble

With shame, and dirty, agonising want.

The brain snickers and pulls another stunt,

dividing the coocky narcissist and sarcastic pragmatic –

your image made the construction erratic.

It pains to admit that the mighty has fallen

into the pattern millions are following –

lusting for a fabricated fairy-tale,

lovingly cooked in the production studious.

Shit! It shakes the stabilty.

The rational is laughing, laughing, laughing…

The narcissism is not that all-mighty after-all,

Human – will be a better word –

and it snarls, and we hurt.

Still, the wild thoughts run in circles and turn to you,

You are it, and there’s trully nothing

We are trying to do

to change that.

Nevermind, madness comes in many forms,

and the mind prefers your throns

Over any other available poison –

Well, duh…