Dear Roxane,

I first met you when we were mere children frolicking along the mysterious roads of France.  We were young and reckless.  We could have taken it way too far.  I didn’t realize my love for you until we aged to wisdom, Roxane.  I tell you now that my love for you screams like a thousand cows mooing in the dawn of the day.  Roxane, my love for you is like a million soldiers fighting over a piece of treasure.  When I cannot express my love for you, it turns into anger.  This anger is deep rooted from an inner passion in my body.  Roxane, my love, I will not stop loving you.  I have vowed to never stop loving you so long as I live.  Even at times you may hate me, my love for you will grow ever more.  I feel as though we are two souls destined to connect with each other in the end.  Whether the end marks my own death, I will look forward to connecting with you every second of my life.  Sometimes, when I am writing my poetry, I think of you and your mere thought simply inspires me.  You are more than my love, you are my muse.  Sometimes, when I am sword fighting with an enemy, I think of you, and my intensity for the fight multiplies infinitely.  You are my stimulant.  I need you more than you need me.  Roxane, the thought of losing you would make my entire body implode instantaneously.  I sometimes slowly walk across the park thinking about how I can make you love me, but I have come to the realization that you love the other fellow, Christian.  As this is my final letter to you dear Roxane, I wanted to let you know that crossing the battlefields to get my letters to you has been tough, but I would cross the entire earth for you my dear.  My eyes are blazing with desire, envy, and jealously when I look at your lush face.  Your very existence makes my own satisfied.  My love for you is like a hundred chickens screeching for freedom from their farms.  You are my one and only love.  You are before anyone else.

-	Cyrano de Bergerac