Her eyes are the moon on a moonless night... A beacon of hope in the deep dark days of old. A Way to cope, A vein of pure gold.. Pure and true, Her love is wrought. A Past lesson That need not be taught. Her movements so delicate and fine. More presious than stardust or fairy wine.. I love her little ways So true so clear The tales they weave, All reasons i know I shall never leave. The smaller the things The stronger I feel Makes the truth of cupid's sting Ever so real. She is my beauty, love and breathe of life For her I would face Any strife... No words can discribe her. None can compare To her endless wonder Her sweet savoir-faire. I see her in the sun I touch her in the moon I see no signs fo impending doom.. I am in awe of her beauty, elegance and grace Everything comes clear In the aspects of her face.. Her past is a predator which over her looms, I suck the venom from her still bleeding wounds.. I can be the medicine In which she needs. I give her myself on which to feed.. I would give myself till It bleeds She is the peace That I have found A celestial angel That blesses the ground To her divine spirit My heart is forever eternally bound.

The End

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