Un-Named
She moves
like the mountain mist
That gently caresses the land,
Like an
innocent child,
Reaching for its mother's hand!
Her smile is
like a gentle brook
Bubbling along its way,
Unmindful of
the path ahead,
Be it night or day!
Her eyes
like liquid pools
That torments our soul.
Their depths
so unfathomable,
An unreachable goal!
She casts a
glance and looks away,
Her eyes, their deed they've done.
Slain one
more aching heart,
One more battle won!
When she
smiles, the sun comes out
Like on a hot summer's day.
And like a
soothing balm
She takes the pain away!
Contributing Poet
Ruzbe
Mistry
roshruz@gmail.com
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