Her eyes burn with ambition and fierce intelligence; 
 Brilliant coals that shine with translucence,
 Her obsidian black her, coils of glowing lava,
 Her skin as pure as asses’ milk;
 To the touch but pure silk,
 Her scent like Elysian fields of flowers,
 Her royal gait hypnotic, causing heads to sway,
 Her smile beguiles and disarms,
 Her voice honeyed, tantalizes the air,
 Her words are wit and wisdom personified,
 Her aura, does all in her presence command,
 Julius stands transfixed, no words can he say. 

 He the foremost military mind in the world;
 Favorite of Mars, 
 He that no army can defeat; 
 Spartacus, Vercingetorix and Crassus crushed in the field,
 He who outfoxes his enemies from Alexandria to Alesia,
 He who would be Imperator of all Rome,
 Cleopatra is struck; he would carry her to the throne.

 Two burning ambitions, coil in passion,
 Fervent lips pressing, tongues searching,
 Corn field stubble, teases soft skin,
 Bodies embrace, stumble onto brushed cotton,
 Mortal garments are shed and torn,
 Hands lock, the lovers combine,
 Their bodies rhythmically ebb and flow,
 Rapid breathes, rising to a crescendo,
 A moment of ecstatic glory,
 As their bodies; their fates are now intertwined.