Is it better to speak or die?

Ask'd Amadour the Knight.
To speak, her ladyship reply'd,

On the dim veranda of 1549.
Around 1980s,
Somewhere in northern Italy,

Neath the shade of apricot trees,

Churned Elio's avidity for proximity.
Too bright his smile shines
That my subdued eyes smitten,

Intoxicated with his dimples' wine.

Is it better to speak or die?
In the summer of Brown University,

His laughter disarms all insecurity.
I shall overcome my timidity,
And forsake the so-called dignity.
Hark! The heartbeats of intensity,

Stricken by the sudden serendipity,

Praying with the fullest sincerity,
For every second extends to eternity.
For every throb to serenity,

And every wavering certainty.