Cleopatra eyes,
skin like
snow white meets a philosopher,
to lost in logical to
wait for her prince to come.
We wind,
we wait.
She dances with herself,
perfect steps.
Seceretly she dreams
that he steps with her.
But she knows that
all she does is dreams,
and dreams are thoughts and
those can wander.
She sings of love and loss,
only relizing now that she
has never truley known love.
Only long, drawn out passion,
and a quick little fire thats
sadly dying.
But there is one that
she relizes she loves.
Not the one that woes her,
but she will always dream.
Author notes
Thoughts, and my relationship status and state
Opinions?
Comments
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Wow. That was beautiful. I loved the softness of it. I love how this is like a memory/dream/cry all in one. You did a fantastic job on this.
Write on.
~*~SP~*~ -
Great write...
Has dramatic flow...
I could really envision your metaphor
Salute!
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