Friday, February 3, 2012

Pride and Honour

Her long black silky hairs, where do hover butterfly
rested upon her large forehead trumpets her decence
her eyes speak about her as if its a mirror with no lie
raisen eyebrows of her, waves everybody making feel her presence

the prettiest of smile, spilling happy syrup everywhere
the face on itself makes a touch of coming back from victory
with a sense of completeness and satisfaction seen up there
whether its rest or riots, she always is accompanied with glory

Head raised in pride, as peaks of mountains touching the sky
adjacent people staring at her being at beds of this zenith
not only show for people but on her shoulders you can rely
her being cruel, or being rude are nothing less than a myth

Beauties have been sunged from ages, but inner beauty never praised
so vulnerable she is, slightest of pain could bring her tears
thoughts so straight is an exception to majorities having mazed
our fellowship is so strong, m sure it is never going to end up in years..

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