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Her beauty mellowed the muse of keys Each eye riveted from the bounty of thieves Every man bowed his gun from her celeste gaze Bewitched by the bìtch with hair of golden maize In days where her arm was something to be feared When each breath promised last and rightfully revered Soon words became weapons and death did not differ With echoes of pyre and lead forever with her Though soon she forgot the mercy not upheld As days no longer cared for what each hour held
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Feb 29, 2020
Feb 29, 2020 at 10:09 PM UTC
Beauty of a Bítch
Her beauty mellowed the muse of keys Each eye riveted from the bounty of thieves Every man bowed his gun from her celeste gaze Bewitched by the bìtch with hair of golden maize In days where her arm was something to be feared When each breath promised last and rightfully revered Soon words became weapons and death did not differ With echoes of pyre and lead forever with her Though soon she forgot the mercy not upheld As days no longer cared for what each hour held
anyamcghee
Written by
23/F/Narnia
Feb 29, 2020
Feb 29, 2020 at 10:09 PM UTC
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