The beautiful self
She is not a maze or a silhouette,
Perhaps,a tale with a brief vignette!
Crawls,heaps,leaps and somersaults
To etch her from mountains to milestones.
She’s not a fine whisper of a feline,
Well,a loud roar from a ravine.
Shattering the norms and notions
With enshrouded gusty emotions,
Bejeweled by appreciations and applauses,
And Wander with the simplicity that passes
As a comet in the hush of the night,
Rekindle the love gracefully with her sight!
The one who Turns out the menace into a magic
Yet sarcastically tragic,
Through pennings,she exists!
The ink and quill paves her exits!
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