The definition of beauty and the certainty of a lustrous tomorrow took the lions share of my thinking until I met you.

 An accidental meeting under the Ceiba tree was enough to keep you in memory thence. Years passed by and we were gradually nearing the future – a tomorrow, we’ve always dreamt of. 
I thought I could go miles to the moon with you but the winds of bad omen blew our way, taking you away and unfortunately and keeping me astray. 
As a son on a native farmer, who am I to keep  you from the son of the great King? Domestic pressures were enough to present me as monster before your scorching eyes.
 They told me to keep away from your sensuous sight. They told you to be far from my melodious voice. 
I believe this might be the medicinal acrid to cure your descendants from the realms of incurable destitute. I wish I can stretch to keep up until tomorrow but from where I seated, this is the end of the tunnel- I better let you go. 
I may have  the face you wouldn’t want to see,  the voice you wouldn’t want to listen to and the name you wouldn’t want to mention at this point in your life but insofar as I get my name indelible and retentive on your mind, I might be the same person you wouldn’t want to forget.