Writing poetry is my true religion, In cognition, In true incantations, She's always honest, Comes straight from my heart ! She's soulful and tender, Games thrown, Down from whirling wind, To whirlpools, Sometimes drowning, In idealistic realism, Dispersed as dandelion down, Reseeding when ever she can! Cultivated in seconds, Breath drawing, Imagery creates another dream, To live in and ride her, Pegasus disguised as mustang, Wildly rides on! By ladylivvi1