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May 2018
If eyes are the doors of the soul
Your body must be the castle, the home
Your hair, shiny as the sun halts in the sky on daylight,
is the crown to own
Your feet, strong and firm, are the chariots
of which any battle to go,
Your hands, the softest hands I held,
but are swords through relentless work of life,
Yet you don’t use them to slaughter your foe in a stealthy night
But instead, to the pain that kills you inside
Your words are the moon that beams throughout your cells
Which are the dwellers of your kingdom
Your blood is the river of never ending stream
of the abundance of life
Your beauty is the throne, ornamented with gold tested by fire
Garnished with diamond, sturdiest, solid and fine
to protect the most fragile queen: thy heart divine
Your heart is enveloped with garden of flowers, Eden is the name
With hundreds of colors and types, but one thing is the same
It blooms every day.
This is for the girl I salute for such nobleness, such royalty in her heart. She stands in her decisions, proves it, and rules her life strongly and proudly. She is a queen, and a warrior at the same time.
unmartyred
Written by
unmartyred  17/Other
(17/Other)   
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