Without the shining bliss of heaven, blessing daily with endless glee.
Without the splendorous seraph who makes up my entire cosmos.
Without my entire heaven, the flawless nirvana, the uttermost perfect.
Without the one who is the incitement to my actions, the lumier to my chandelier
Without the one, I plought my life to never cease my love.
Without the absolute goddess I could endlessly gaze at and quiz for eternities, for the indescribable magnificence she possesses, able to conquer anyone with a mere glance.
Without the majesty with the capability of establishing a reign of a centillion men, with a simple remark.
Without the being whose immaculateness is a labyrinth, I want to get lost and never find myself.
Without my all
I am nothing.
Nothing, absolutely nothing.
I cannot express my utter pain, the grievous excruciation, I endure every single second I do not spend with her.
The undescribable isolating feeling of being asphyxiated in a pitless void of twilight.
Being shoved down, involuntarily, into a spiral abyss of nothing but gloom, obscured by misery and apprehension of losing what I value the most.
But upon seeing the effulgence shining down from the heavens, the sudden upheave of epinephrine disemboguing throughout every inch of me.
Reminding me of the arrant luck I must possess for such fortune to occur to me.
Unable to be beholden enough, forcing me to recall