The moon rose high in the rich blue sky
Its ghostly face gave off a glisten
That cascaded down
Illuminating the dark forest
The clouds parted in respect for the benevolence of the moon
The dark, sinful figures of the trees reaching to oppress it
As if to block out its pale dedication
The wind spoke softly through the trees
The trees moaned in reply
Softly, the wind caressed the smooth grass
In a clearing
Stood a women
Her dress an eerie pale, definitive white
Reaching down to the ground and spread like veins
Or roots of a willow tree
Her hair, as white as the dress, tumbled past her shoulders
Her face, angelic to the point of being demonic
Raised high, daring and sweet
Her blue eyes piercing and innocent
Her wings, crystal clear, flittered from behind her
A flash of a sad smile curves on her luscious lips
As she witnesses the disruption of her natural oasis
Sees it melt into nothing more than a pitiful reminder
That humans obliterate everything they touch.
(if you rated this poem low, please leave a comment and let me know how i can improve it. thx)
