Virtuously she comes,
Abstruse is the silver lining that crosses her lips
Deja vu is the pattern that rumbles one's soul.
Breathless, how her impact creeps in the room.
His atmosphere is where she dwells.
His ego is where she flows within.
Her fantasy drains his conscious so when she vanishes the fragrance still lives.
He consumes her for purity but love leaves his knees to spill.
The north star is in his vision but
Her tears abduct his cheeks keeping him in revelation's sand. By: M. W. Styner, Jr.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem