They Belong To You

How shall I honor you my love?
The Sistine Chapel has been painted,
And the Taj Mahal already built.
I could try composing a concerto,
Or some symphony to transcend time.
Although I am no master poet,
Nor bard with words sublime.
I cannot lasso the moon
Or gift you with the stars.
All of these magical things
Are beyond my mortal reach.
I would gladly prostrate myself
Before you, and sit
Happily at your feet.
Or remain completely still,
Until you bid me speak.
I cannot encircle the heavens,
Or cast forth the chains of hell.
But I can follow where you lead,
and in to the darkness, dwell.
I have no riches to share,
Nor hope of great acclaim.
I am unworthy of your love,
Yet, I hope my devotion will do.
I cannot offer up my blood,
My breath, or  eternal soul
Because, my love,
They already belong to you.