She descended slowly from the heavens,
On a starlit night in the misty mountains.
She brought flowers in her dark tresses,
And moonlit meadows in her brown eyes.
Cloaked entirely in majestic moonstone,
She sits alone on my heart’s throne.
Her music gave the world life and light,
And the forests bloomed in her realms.
The nightingales sang only of her beauty,
And the Men worshipped her sweet voice.
Deep in woods, it is said, that few birds,
Still sing her songs and utter her words.
Today’s vile world deserves not her love,
And the agents of the Devil lurk in shadows.
Her innocence is too precious and rare,
As is her belief and hope in the good.
I shall protect her in my arms from any plight,
And love her in her moments both dull and bright.
About the Creator
Kashyap Patel
I write poems and short stories. I hope you like it. :D
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