The Song of Man

I sought to delight in your love & taste of your nectar, but could not entice you to bloom. I kneel & sing of your beauty. Sorrowfully, you turn away, leaving me in the shadow of your despair. My advances are unto music for your soul. The greatest of flattery's you could conceive, lest you gave birth to the devils tongue. And while it pleases you, your heart is as ice. My dear, I can do no more. I am not Orpheus.