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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
You suddenly remembered the woman who got away. As a writer what will you do? The answer is very simple: write.

Submitted: April 24, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 24, 2017



She plays like it's spring

And all the flowers will bloom

She plays like a storm

And even the hurricane will find its shelter


She made this mellow story pouring with ease from her heart

And I know that all who'll listen will smile

Splashed with the colors of the wind

She is a canary that shies away from her melodies

Willows and bamboos can never dance as gracefully

Art-kissed is her soul, a butterfly was she


She paints the world with colors of her own

Never has she judged; always she was loved

Angry as she may be still ;  she made way

For her heart is golden ; not a taint of grey


She sings to the universe with the melodies of sanity

Amidst chaos of the mind she is peace, serene

A lullaby that puts even demons to sleep

A melody that puts rest to hearts that weep


She moves with the grace of the clouds

Awe-inspiring was she, pure and bold

A reflection of the soul was she

Always glad; always free


Her heart is her paint, the world, her canvass

Her soul is her song, her bias

Rhythm lives within her body and never without grace 

Blessed I am to have known her, none could take her place


She was a friend, a sister, my beloved

And she was a part of my world

For that I personally want to give my gratitude

Reminding me that in this world, I once loved her perpetually

© Copyright 2018 Adiemus Erien. All rights reserved.