| about |
| create weblog |
| news |
| tutorial |
| faq |
| contact |
| show template |
|
|||
 |
|
|
|
|
|||
 |
|
|
|
|
|||
|
 |
|
|
||
The Morning Swan
Pounding in her throat is her soul ignite
Reborn in overwhelming soars
Finally awake, from her slumber
She is alive for the first and forever
She has matured into a golden swan
Extending her long feathered crown
And to her saviour prince
…She was found
He, the one, who unleashed the broken egg;
Of its manifesting and troubled mind
Allows her wings to span
As the morning sun to rise
With all of its colour and all of its brilliance
She writes to the clouds
And the souls of symphony
With her eyes so close, to the white pure infinity
The dawn light, caresses her face
Knowing that her breathless rays
Of roses bourn
Will bloom throughout Eternity’s forlorn
0 comments