Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
she's too fine for mortal men, not even angels should lay a hand. as devils lust over her perfect frame and her glossy eyes, they whisper her name. to love her is suicide, cause for her you'd **** or die, dare truth or lie. her beauty is fatal, fierce, and faint, it's impossible to feign like dodging the rain. only immortals can survive her face, it'll longer than eternity to outrun this race. as her gaze gives pursuit keep your feet moving with eyes on the ground, never lifting for a peek, or else your fate will be bound.
0
Jul 3, 2010
Jul 3, 2010 at 1:50 AM UTC
untouchable
she's too fine for mortal men, not even angels should lay a hand. as devils lust over her perfect frame and her glossy eyes, they whisper her name. to love her is suicide, cause for her you'd **** or die, dare truth or lie. her beauty is fatal, fierce, and faint, it's impossible to feign like dodging the rain. only immortals can survive her face, it'll longer than eternity to outrun this race. as her gaze gives pursuit keep your feet moving with eyes on the ground, never lifting for a peek, or else your fate will be bound.
- From Adaptations of an Imperfect Evolution
richard-allen-pogue
Written by
Jul 3, 2010
Jul 3, 2010 at 1:50 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem