Her
With her broken wings
she flew away to her dreams.
The most childish things
filled with sceneries of
golden fields
and icy fruits on hills.
Tender hearts and good
witches,
soul mates and friendly
wishes.
She still dreamed of
knightly princes riding white
horses.
Tearless eyes, truthful smiles
and sinless kings
ruling magical beings.
Even in her brokenness
with a past of
broken deeds.
With her broken soul
she still believed in
wholesome things.
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful Madness
PoetryThe Lonely Poet Love Letters to the wolf princess in blue Him and Her I write to pour out my feelings and my imaginations some of my poems may not make sense, but what is "sense" really? This is beautiful madness. Enjoy. Or Not. Victor Forna
