“Cleopatra, O’ my Cleopatra,


    Your beauty hath no one extra.”


    For thy actor’s line recite;


    “Thy usefulness knows no bounds,


    Though thy pride doth fly no higher than I,


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    Thy heart rivaled by only thy courage,


    Is so very full of love indeed.”


    “Cleopatra, O’ my Cleopatra” I reply.


    “Smitten by thy bronze skin and eyes the color of the auburn high skies


    Amidst the blind eye going to cry


    ‘Why…why must I stand by waiting to try and fly high beyond the wall of Rye Sky?’


    But therein lies the bare end of the near end of blending in to the sadistic grin that cripples me so.


    Cleopatra, O’ my Cleopatra, it is for thy that I continue to try and why…I suppose I cannot lie.


    I’ll never truly know.”