She is the truth you are afraid of,
Unable to grasp the extent of her,
Unending beauty that refrains,
Every breath a story to forget.
Every flower grows under her,
And you watch them sleep,
Her fear is one day not rising,
Of one day never seeing you glow.
Funny how the moon thinks less,
Less of herself and more of you,
Less of the tides and more of you,
Less of the humans and more of the sun.
Much liked the wordplay & imagery
©bishu
Thank you very much, for both
Thank you very much, for both reading and commenting. :)
Love,
LovingLovelace
If your mirror doesn't find you one of the most beautiful people it has ever seen, punch it and find a better mirror.