In that narrow space beyond which
Superficiality resides,
Rouged lips and burnished eyes
Unstill hands and hearts aside

On a moon spilt beach Winter's icy breath is hushed
(How strange the elements themselves conspired)
To enflame and invigor
An imagination shrunk tired

Though perfection is a transient dream
It is awakening reality that inspires
Hope in the shape of an eyelashed freckle
And an impish gleam so long before denied

What does it mean? Where will it lead?
The deep thinker dramatically sighed
Bemused and bewitched by each sunrise for its own worth
Carpe diem, he winkedly replied.