Wicked Fantasy

A contemporary victor has entered into me head.
He is holding the torch to light my foggy perilous path.
To guide my heart to happiness.
Although, in my head I can picture and almost enter this
happiness,
I cannot reach it.
I cannot have him
He's just a dream, a wicked fantasy,
A spectacle, miles away.
When I look into his watery brown eyes, I can read the tissue of his
soul, and I am gripped, mesmerised by the rush of passion transmitted
through me.
Let me hold him.
Make me belong to him.
Forever, resting safely, warmly in his arms.