ACHES [Wattys Winner 2015]

My Perfect Stranger 6

In those moments few,

When I stood there,

I just knew,

Of why you were my perfect stranger

Even if, I write till my hair grew grey,

Even if, I choose my best words to dress you,

Even if, I would shower you with all my mightiest praises,

Even if, every time I meet you, I would chant those religiously anew,

I would not, to the very least, be able to 

 Dress you, the way you are, 

 Praise you of the beauty you reflect 

 And immortalise you through my words, 

  into a character, which you actually are,

  into the beauty, which you actually possess.

For no words can describe the paramount serenity your face radiates,

For no man can love you enough, 

Not with all the possible brilliance, you deserve.

I am but a mere writer, 

You, you, my sweet sweet darling,

An angel which embodies in the perfect.

And truth be told,

How many mere lives get touched by angels?

You were my silent prayer,

But never did I know,

You are real, my angelic unattainable stranger.