“Are you coming,” she said, with that look in her eye,

That bewitching look that could melt the coldest heart,

And in that instant I became her willing slave

Forever condemned to do her every bidding.

“Are you coming,” she said, with a tilt of her head

And turned towards the open doors to the garden,

Leaving me in confusion, should I follow

Or stay, and forever know the pain of regret.

“Are you coming,” she said, and extended her hand,

Silently willing me to take that fatal step,

To grasp it in mine and be forever foresworn,

Follow her and desert my family and friends.

“Are you coming,” she said, as we crossed the threshold

Into the golden light of a new existence,

Severing all that tied me to my former life,

Every memory of the past wiped clean away.

“Are you coming,” she said, as we ran through the woods,

So fleet of foot that we covered miles in a flash,

Leaving no impression to mark our swift passing,

Caught up in the bubble of her sweet magic.

“Are you coming,” she said, when we passed through the gate

Into the mystical world that was her true home,

A place of enfolding light and many sweet sounds,

And a sense of ineffable joy in the wind.

“Are you coming,” she said, as her clothes fell away,

Unnecessary impediments to beauty,

And looking down I discovered my own true self,

Flesh transfigured by a new evanescent aura.

“Are you coming,” she said, as she held out her arms,

Drawing me into a warm embrace without end,

Elusive energy piercing my inner soul,

Whispering gentle words of promised ecstasy.

“Are you coming,” she said, as I moved inside her,

My entire being carried away by rapture,

The sweet intoxication of mystic fusion

With the angelic guardian of my spirit.