Swinging across tides – sick
Feeding those numb syrups – caring
Draped in a spotless chiffon- somber
Off the ground yet gravitated – humble
Trimming her goals for free – selfless
Cold yet breathless-devoted
Retarded but next to godlines,are they?
Ushering darkness beyond abyss – angel
Humming those lonely lullabies- sober
Bruised/zealous,no matter who, stay close to her – soulrocker
Dungeons of fear subside if you confide in her – free spirit
Sometimes an epitome of love
Sometimes cradling strength
Sometimes etched in pain
Sometimes out of her depth
I bet you’ll run out of lines too…
Even “Love” will run out against her pristine glory.
Why don’t you figure this angel out?
What else one could be destined with?
An effort to sue up your mind with a musing. She’s the world to many, like a Freewheeler she grapples all her fears for us.
An infatuation, an epitome…..I’m literally crashing out.