When your little one
nests in a womb...

Elvin darkness brings a vibe
of mystic potions locked away...

Greenery transforms into nightingales
during a midnight symphony...

My fine china was broken
back in a day when society...

I used to admire
women draped in black...

Its very difficult
to smile during a thunderstorm...

She was placed in an environment
where lost angels have gathered...

I can't always write about you
but here lately your eyes dance...

A Woman's face withers
upon a morning sun...

I label my tears
by the number...

These eyes have witnessed
balmy breezes, whispering...

My mind is controlled by
societies whispers - I hear...