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.