What you are to me?

You are an unknown mystery to me,
Perfect delusion and a grey dream to me.
All tinges of autumn have departed,
Leaving behind your enticing presence uncelebrated.
You are my disease, even fatal then a catastrophe
But I'd love to die in your presence, passionately.
Heaps of gold and diamonds are piling,
Yet nothing is parallel to your worth, that's a bit surprising.
Tell me why do you seem so impeccable?
Dominating my sensations, why so admirable?
The sun is setting now but a new morning shall delight me.
Till then I shall try to unveil the mystery, what you are to me?