~•~
Grace ran through her veins.
Elegance was her demeanor,
Regal was her stature,
As she floated past the crowds,
All eyes upon her,
Beholding the beauty of her art,
Capturing her fatigued steps,
As she treaded upon the strings.
Her voice cascaded down,
The mellifluous octaves,
And twisted through the misty nebulous,
The pneumbra set to a plethora ,
Of radiant gold,
Piercing through the northern sky,
Tracing the silver lining,
That faded slowly,
And like a leaf blown by the murmuring wind,
Her atrabilious adieu,
Transpired into air,
As she took her last step,
Towards the bottomless dark abyss.
~•~
YOU ARE READING
Serenade✔
Poetry"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all. " ~Oscar Wilde __________________________________ ✔You stay under the carpet of my room, Dusting the corners of my soul✔ __________________________________...
