Psyche

Learn more about other poetry terms

Prologue:   Beauty was never something I set out to find; It was simply thrust upon me. Without regard to who I really am inside,
Eros, My Love, I lay next to you, street lights gleaming Eros, My Love, I had your trust, car horns honking Eros, My Love, I thought you'd be so true, sirens blaring
Eros, My Love, I lay next to you, street lights gleaming Eros, My Love, I had your trust, car horns honking Eros, My Love, I thought you'd be so true, sirens blaring
  The biting exchange of night into morning is here. I lay coldly, intertwined in crimson sheets and tangled hair. Awake from a daze into the new day,
Don’t foresee Everything With discontent   A day Will come For you too Beauty Is not something That is concerned To the way you look The only thing
I often see my mind as a mountain of Ice, A huge fortress of strength, intelligence and greatness. Like a monolith that will last for eons, And will spike the awe of the beholder.
Subscribe to Psyche