With white wings made of light, luminous, she floats
As gracefully as proudly she moves; with vain pleasure
Surrounded by echoes of anticipation
Her ambition as her greatest weapon
Her devotion as her greatest charm
Her pale visage her greatest power
Her ember eyes her greatest treasure
They applaud beauty where they witness it, 't is clear...
And why should they not?
A civil sign of innocent energy it is,
That should never be forgot
So, if their words turn a harsher shade
Then, dearest, mind them not.
woensdag 26 november 2008
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