Of A Beauty
She once walked across fieldsOf glory and gold
But her bones of steel
Are now brittle and broken
Weathered hands
No longer hold her body high
But bitter eyes
Watch her pained figure pass
And upon a moonlit night
Only one shadow meets hers there
They dance a precious dance
So simple and alone
One silver line from the web of time
Until she crawls back to her tomb
posted by Unknown @ 3:43 PM
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