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The sun has finally shone

Out of the clouds

That have covered it for years.

The air to the throne has been born.


Pure Soul.

Gorgeous soul.

Truthful soul.

Inspirational soul.

Determines soul.

Smart soul.

The air to the throne has been born.


The white smile jumps,

Jumps out from her tan face,

Jumps from her dark hair.

The blankness in her eyes

Hides her truths yet,

The white around them prove there really is, 

A heart of gold.

The air to the throne has been born.


She's caring.

Shes loving.

She's imperfectly perfect

She's an unround circle.

She's not traced.

She's drawn by herself.

She's draws her own body and being,

Yet people stain their blood on her skin

As a mark of remembrance and

Symbolism.

Yet again they do this,

Hoping that they could have her for themselves. 

The air to the throne has been born.


She may be daring and adventurous,

But she's sensitive.

She's your shoulder to cry on.

She's your sister-figure.

She's that one we all want.

She's the flash of warmth and

Love we need.

The clouds have shifted.

The sun shined.

Then again it disappears…

Waiting for this amazing soul to pass.

The air to the throne has been born and moved on.


The earth sits and wonders if another human could be created as Well as this miracle.

There is now a new soul to the throne.

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