Mona Lisa
Even if it takes the ink of a
thousand pens,
I'm going to write about Mona
Lisa
in the wake of the night,
as soon my writing pad by ignite
by the glow of the moonlight.
The first time I saw her my
eyes froze upon the surface of
her angelic appearance.
Within a wink of an eye the
features that construct her
beauty put me to sleep upon a
soft pillow of imagination.
I tried to express myself, but
my lips fluently speak the
language of silence,
because I submerged in a
ocean of words, before I floated
up on a thought of adjectives as
I seek to articulate my feelings,
then I realized that no
adjectives on the tongue of men
can adequately describes the
feeling I felt for her.
As I'm about to say something
her smile paralyzed the words
that I was about to say so they
didn't get to walk off my lips.
I set my ravenous eyes free to
feed on the flesh of her
congeniality.
I glimpse through uniquely
crafted windows of her soul and
i perceived heaven where she's
from.
She swept me off my feet and I
fell from the stand of my
fantasy into love.
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