She was a fairy tale told by a poem that was sung to the moon by the star that wrote the secrets of lust with the flames of the sun on the skin of the heart of the story of love...
and she lived in the wonder of the gaze of the children of dreams and controled the pulse of eternity and the flow of magic trapped within the illusion of time and she flirted with death for a kiss and then stole its robes and the beauty of dying was then her gift to give and her burden to bare and she was gentle with grace and generous with kindness and she will be the first and last sound that you hear as she whispers the meaning of life in your ear...
and it will take only the moment that is as long as it is short...
and you will know you were part of the fairy tale told by a poem that was sung to the moon by the star that wrote the secrets of lust with the flames of the sun on the skin of the heart of the story of love
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 12:23 PM UTC
She was a fairy tale told by a poem that was sung to the moon by the star that wrote the secrets of lust with the flames of the sun on the skin of the heart of the story of love...
and she lived in the wonder of the gaze of the children of dreams and controled the pulse of eternity and the flow of magic trapped within the illusion of time and she flirted with death for a kiss and then stole its robes and the beauty of dying was then her gift to give and her burden to bare and she was gentle with grace and generous with kindness and she will be the first and last sound that you hear as she whispers the meaning of life in your ear...
and it will take only the moment that is as long as it is short...
and you will know you were part of the fairy tale told by a poem that was sung to the moon by the star that wrote the secrets of lust with the flames of the sun on the skin of the heart of the story of love
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