Giorno poem

189 2 5
                                    

Requested by kitsumirae I hope you enjoy 😊

The sun beams down on
Strands the color of autumnal
Wheat fields,
The small flyaways dance in the breeze
As the fae do come Springtime
Woven strands of gold cascade down
His back,
Tied into a braid.

His eyes are like that of a dreamer,
Focused on the sky that is as tall
As his goals,
The miniature jungles in his sockets
Are as unnavigable as his mind.

Thoughts swirling,
Bonds created,
Obstacles turned to dust.

All in the name of one man's dream
And the Golden Wind that tussles
His hair.

Jojo's bizarre adventure poemsWhere stories live. Discover now