The Wail of the Mistress

The Wail of the Mistress In shadows thrown by city lights, A soul awaits the darkest nights, A mistress with a heart unknown, Whose beauty shines, yet feels alone. She walks the streets with graceful stride, Her spirit wounded, deep inside, Each step a tale of smothered pain, In search of love she can't attain. She pours her soul into her trade, An art form woven in her braid, But in the eyes of those who see, Merely desire, not love, set free. Through streets where secrets intertwine, Her heart yearns for a love divine, For in her depths, a wail does rise, A longing echoed through her cries. She dreams of arms that hold her tight, Of whispered words that feel so right, A love that sees beyond her guise, To cherish her, to empathize. Yet, in this world of fleeting lust, Her heart feels broken, lost, unjust, For though desired, she yearns to find, A love that's pure, so true, so kind. Oh, Mistress fair, don't lose your way, For love may come, with dawn of day, Seek not in shadows, but in light, Where souls connect, erupt, unite. In every heart, a yearning dwells, To find the love that truly swells, So let your wail be heard, my dear, For love may find you, have no fear. The Mistress, with her heart so vast, Shall find a love that's meant to last, For in her wail, a strength does lie, To guide her to a love that's nigh. Sit Deus benedicat anima tua.