'My Romeo, My Prince' Poem by Freya Capulet

He came down so swift,
like a raging thunder
a divine being arrives
to walk amongst the mortals.
His eyes dark and unreadable,
Intentions unclear but presence
as beautiful as spring,
as vivid as a dropp of dew
on one summer’s morning.
His very stance as he looked upon
my inferior being,
meant like rain to a drought,
yet fearsome—as
the rogue waves at sea.
His gaze is hypnotising
and sees through every colour
—They clamp me in a void
between his very fingers
whenever he comes into sight.

He’s the first of his kind;
the rare being better absent,
a beauty in disguise
always compose of his true self.
He’s always the one;
the one who will take it away,
the one who leaves me
breathless at his smile.
He’s my Romeo, my prince;
the one whom I dream of,
who saves me
from my fears, my nightmares,
—blessed with charm and
equipped with resilience.
He’s stolen my heart
and he should never return it;
He’s never known of my feelings
and I should never tell him about it.

I won’t tell him:
how I could cry if I—
would see him cry…
how I would embrace him
when he needs me,
how my life has altered
when I caught sight of his demeanour,
how my darkest of days lights up
with the spark of his smile
and the sound of his laugh—
even if we’re strangers apart.
I won’t tell him:
that he is every reason why
I am happy
why life’s better than before,
why it’s so thrilling than not—
that he is every reason
why I love myself
and in return, I
found love for him.

But ‘tis
an unfortunate chance.
But ‘tis
a path better uncrossed.
For

my Romeo has his Juliet.
She’s able to stare into his eyes
a priceless gift;
She’s able to speak to him
and listens to his troubles
that which is immortality
so to cure his broken heart.
She’s able to laugh
with him and to embrace him
that which both a taste of
Heaven—
every mortal wish to endure.

My Romeo has his Juliet.
I stood and caught sight
only to find my solace
in depression and
the hectic loneliness
of a dejected, destroyed world.
I stood and found tears,
I ached deep inside,
but
My dear Romeo never knew.
‘Tis only my unfortunate self
and my unlucky Fate
to love a being I can’t have.
Sadness, sorrow, misery, gloom
none could surmise
the intense pain of seeing them
together.

My Romeo already has his Juliet.
His princely self now owned
to a princess so auspicious—
that Venus wept in jealousy.
My Romeo always has his Juliet.
Yet as I remain a secret,
that this love
is never divulged to him—
My Romeo will still have his Juliet.