Her powerful and provocative artistry fails to capture the hearts of those who don't quite understand her message. Often overlooked in the art world, Beyoncé has struggled for years to gain the respect of her peers. That all changes when she meets A...
In the gentle clasp of my garden's green, Where morning doves croon secrets unseen, A patient melody drifts on the breeze, Love's ghost ensnared with effortless ease.
Here, my past unfurls like a tapestry grand, Woven with golden threads through a shadowy land, Each thread a lover's promise, a shade of deceit, Painted in joy and betrayal, bittersweet.
Beneath the coy sun's veiled embrace, Shadows of affection, once bright, now displaced, Red roses, once vibrant, wilt unseen, Like autumn leaves, crisp and serene.
On a bench of cold iron, as dawn whispers through, The chill of the morning seeps under my dress, anew, Contemplating love, both the old and the true, Clad in past armor, yet facing what's due.
My Eden blossoms around me, lush and wild, A dance of innocence and sin, beguiled, Light filters through leaves, a dappled ballet, A sanctuary pondered, where thoughts may sway.
The heart murmurs of endless leases on time, In the fragrance of roses, peace seems sublime, Yet shadowed by tales of fleeting affairs, Bold stories of flings, carried on air's whispers.
A revolving door of past loves, a quiet echo, Is this refuge a sanctuary or just for show? Here, battles fought with serpent's sly taunt, Temptations whispered, desires haunt.
Yet here I stand, renewed, my heart's tone true, No longer a tempest but a tender coo, Steadfast, no deceptive fruit in hand, Reflecting the tranquility of a muted land.
Could someone so free among these desiring trees, Root beside me with such ease? In soil richly nurtured by tests of time, Could our love flourish, and truly climb?
As doves take wing in the morning's embrace, Their rhythmic beat a tender grace, Not marred, but a canvas of potential bright, Where love sketches its hues in light.
Not a fortress but a nurturing garden's care, Where even wilted plants find new life to share, In this reborn Eden, should I place my trust, To lay down defenses, and love, if I must?
The doves rise, their hope generously bestowed, In unburdened flight, their love openly showed, Could this be the place where broken hearts mend, In gardens where love finds its transcendence to tend?
