I wanted but to write
In blindness and in sight,
A poem for nobody to read,
Except my Annabel Lee, indeed .

A poem she won't place on her bookshelf,
A poem not for her mother to see,
A poem to keep only to herself,
A love poem to my Annabel Lee.

I wanted to write to her a letter
Of strength, of courage.
I can't be sure I'll say it better
Or my words of love will be average.

A letter that will make my beloved smile
A letter that will draw me close from miles.
A letter that will make time fly so fast
She will feel that the present is the past...

I wanted but to write
In blindness and in sight,
In words out of the question,
In the depth of delight,
In pure feelings of affection,
A poem of attention.

A letter that in history has never been
A letter that in mystery will never be seen;
A poem for only her to see,
A poem to my Annabel Lee.

But because I favor to live
Persistence is what I don't have;
And because I am in quandary,
Not to write to her is my only boundary.