The water enfolds her
Bearing her gently on her silent journey.
Petals loose themselves from her heavy hair,
To float around her like a halo.
Her violet eyes are open,
Yet they see nothing.
Her pink lips are parted,
Yet no sound will be uttered.
The willows bow to her
As she passes them without any pageantry.
Her lily-white skin shimmers in the sun,
Which will shine even on the darkest of days.
She has never been beautiful until now,
Freed from her mortal coil
And unburdened by her squandered heart.
But the river will her keep her
As a treasure discarded,
And pulls her down to its lush, dark depths.
Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 7:24 PM UTC
The water enfolds her
Bearing her gently on her silent journey.
Petals loose themselves from her heavy hair,
To float around her like a halo.
Her violet eyes are open,
Yet they see nothing.
Her pink lips are parted,
Yet no sound will be uttered.
The willows bow to her
As she passes them without any pageantry.
Her lily-white skin shimmers in the sun,
Which will shine even on the darkest of days.
She has never been beautiful until now,
Freed from her mortal coil
And unburdened by her squandered heart.
But the river will her keep her
As a treasure discarded,
And pulls her down to its lush, dark depths.
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