She is fire in lanterns leading home,
magic in words, syrah in pain. She is
glimpse of paradise, soft pat at my
back and shelter in drenching rain.
She is courage in battles, daffodils
rising at horizon. She is starlight in
dark, butterflies guiding to the exit
and glimmering beauty of night.
She is zephyr of tea gardens, engulf-
-ing the tress to sleep. She is ground
for autumn leaves, traces of eternity
and warmth to demons that weep.
/Her eyes are like palm-groves refreshed
by Dawn's breath or terraces the moon
She is camellia of a mothers crown, a
fading unicorn in heavens. She is the
pink tint in rues, scars of battles and
tape of bravery that hold the weapon.
She is ecstatic twilight, the beauty
and the voice of moon giggling above.
She is an angel for devil for once she
taught him how to love.