His Goddess
I long for you
The touch of a man
The beauty of a king
Body of a god
Like a gift from the heavens
That I don't deserve
But I am blessed
Because he was mine
And no one else's
And who am I?
Forever his goddess.
His Goddess
I long for you
The touch of a man
The beauty of a king
Body of a god
Like a gift from the heavens
That I don't deserve
But I am blessed
Because he was mine
And no one else's
And who am I?
Forever his goddess.
Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.
Unknown Source
Title | Comments | Submitted |
---|---|---|
Title | Comments | Submitted |
Sunset | 0 | 08/05/2009 |
Insomnia | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
His Goddess | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
A Willow Tree | 1 | 07/13/2009 |
Shadows | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
This moment | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
People always leave... | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
Lying on the Floor | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
Russian Roulette | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
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