Why doth mine heart love thee?

Every aesthetic night, I sit under the moonlight thinking about thee, Me and mine heart wanders in the thought of thee and thine elegance. In mine sweet yearning, I ask mine soul- Why do I love thee? To find the answer, mine soul begins to find mine love's essence. Is mine love a ship which drowned in the black ocean of thine eyes? Or is mine love a slave which got chained by those fine dark hairs? Hath this love arisen by the desire to claim those lips comparable to rose? Or is mine love a raindrop which wants to fall only on thy beautiful curves? No sweetheart! I have come to admire thy form only after loving thee, As thy Love hath not made me a slave of thy body, but hath freed mine soul. These eyes of mine hath only admired thee after mine soul hath loved thee, Surprisingly, Darling! I love thee not for thy charms, I love thee, without any goal. But lo! The question stays unanswered- Why doth mine heart love thee? Mine soul concedes defeat to this question, but this defeat feels like a victory.