Demure as a rose,

He looks at his reflection,

Wearing a soft expression,

Gazing past his foes.

 

He sees his features,

Eyes in control, 

He stares at his soul,

What a marvelous creature.

 

His beauty is rare, 

Life a flower in Spring, 

Until Autumn's ring,

You can't help but stare.

 

People are caught in his gaze,

Captured by his lips,

They yearn for a kiss,

His face an impenetrable maze.

 

By night all he feels is desire,

His mirror the chalice,

His face the palace, 

Ready to face passion's fire.