Her dark, dark hair is spun into a plait
That elegantly encircles her head.
Her bright ruby lips are turned up
In the corners to form a innocent smile.
Her moon pale skin glows with youth
And is untarnished by blemishes or scars.
But as I stare at her black, empty eyes,
I begin to fall into a dark endless void;
And eyes are the window to the soul.
YOU ARE READING
The Chaos
PoetryWelcome to the chaos of my mind. A collection of original poems by me. "A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language." -W.H. Auden "That was her gift, she filled you with words you didn't k...
