Sit Still, Look Pretty
They’ll tell you to smile,
Sit still, look pretty
They’ll tell you to focus on your looks
That itty bitty waist
Your eyes, your lips
In His Image
The testament of His glory, gilded by the stars. A dome above, carved by hands divine, from where His mercy pours Rejuvenating Earth and all in Her. As He rules from the throne above. He graced her, by many a hue in His palette; From azure to bronze. She reflects, like a mirror, The joy and sorrow of the Realm below.
Red o’ Blood
Crimson tide that washed over me,
With gruelling pace, it broke free.
To where life was but a dread,
Not full of miracles, but misery.
As I sit here with ruminating thoughts the wind whispers a million stories “Eternal love is an empty lie.” I begin to be unsure “Forever” we said. Reliving the romantic scenario Will they come to an end? Amidst the tangled mess You can see it deep in her eye, the picture of pure love echoes…
Snow-capped, pristine as the Realm above, Glistening brightly as the Sun greets her, Tranquil and undisturbed, pure as a dove, Yet Chaos is not unknown to her, As she shrouds the graves of unfulfilled dreams; Of winning her, with her white shroud.
A Taste of Yesterday
Woke up to the same alarm
in routine there is seldom charm.