April howers,
Her red hair bent in silken webs.
Liquid mirrors.
Her green lips,
And brown eyes.
Whatever the world,
Whatever the thorns,
Whatever...
She is both.
April Snow.
Rarity,
Rarity,
My love filled with charity,
takes pleasure in abstract melodies.
Her hair was growing,
But she cut it short and dyed it white.
Though I miss the smell of her perfume,
I still ravish in her cold heart.
After all, she's still beautiful, isn't she?
No matter the weather,
She's still the better,
Half of the seasons.
April Snow,
April showers,
I can still see the rose red,
in her short,
white hair.
YOU ARE READING
Lillies and Ghosts
PoesiaPoems for the young, the restless, or the mad. These are my words to you, always and forever~
