You Don't Deserve My Verses

On a very vivacious meeting, we were enclosed by a cordial infatuation.
You kept chuckling at me from the outside of the circle.
I often got mired in your white smile.
One day you told me, 'Write'
And I tried to compose just an episode of my heavenly flam. 
The next day you said, 'See'
And I started to dwell into the darkness of your craving soul.
Then you said, 'Read'
And I opened a book full of some anomalous chapters. 
Last day came, this time I said, 'learn my melody'
And you intoned your own musical prayer.
I can still remember how new born ripples touched my feet.
I used to run to you as I could never bear the bigness of giant sea!
There was no one but an empty shore; I failed to reach you.
How I became alone!
All the pureness soon evaporated.
The verses that I wrote for you, are still there; written on the pale yellow pages.
And suddenly I realized you don't actually deserve my verses. 
I recite them every Thursday night; they are torn but, innocent.
They give me the strength to forget some imponderable reminiscences.