The eye, thousand words in a glance,
Not a flutter, just the shimmering glee.
Drown in the mist, white, and gray,
Open your mind, colorful from inside.
Portrait of the glaring sun,
Purple and red, the touch of magic.
Pout the mouth, words to fly,
Deaf to all the worries, just the silence.
Heart beats, little flutter of wings,
Butterflies to blame, but self assured pain.
Touch, like the dew,
Trickle down, sweet smell of rain.
Held close, never to break,
Bonds of pain, but the smile on face.
But the end, red in color,
Just to feel, to forget and move on.
She is the woman, Inside me.
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