It's easy to begin (and so to end)
a rapport on Form and not on Content.
Starts as the sea; calm in richness content
but finishes in storm as to offend.
When time is due to cross this restless sea
waves upon waves will block you in any way
away from Eden, your Ithaca's bay —
unrequited love be your legacy.
Cause what you despised now you condescend,
and wears a new costume! Is it Respect
that steers your half-wrecked ship far from the doom
(not Beauty's perfume but Harmony's scent)
far from Religion unto a new Sect
unto the new Cross — Penelope's loom?