pale skin, soft, like a circle of lace
fragile soul, full of anger and grace
shell carved of rock with a pearl interior
made up so others won’t call her inferior
eyes that hold secrets too good to be true
sitting alone and enjoying the view
colours so bright they make lesser girls burn
men who all wish for their own special turn.
she shakes my foundation and builds up my heart
she cares for my soul like her own work of art
flying so high with her mile-long tragedy
sinking so low in a quest against fallacy
rainbows shoot out of her long flowing dress
touching my world, making beggars confess
living her life as intensely as mine
art, ever flowing, becoming her shrine.
we love and we fight in our equal intensity
cycling over, never ending propensity
passion and grace counteract all the fear
with looming grey skies drawing always so near
my flame on the verge of an endless dark silence
is brought back to life amidst all of the violence
my reason for living, my passion on fire
she shows me the heights to which I should aspire.