Lightly she sighs with the wind,
Sitting in a field of glory.
Radiance emanates her,
And she knows everyone loves her.
Her grandeur only precedes her,
But the spoken word does her no justice,
The concept that anyone could not love
Such magnificent a creature,
Never even occurs to her.
She holds herself high,
On a pedestal of gold
And no one ever questions it;
But late at night,
Once she takes off her mask,
And becomes who she was born to be,
She becomes what no one should see.
Her radiance fades with setting sun,
Her pedestal falls to the ground
If anyone saw her at this time,
They would scream with utter terror.
For all her loveliness during the day,
It equals her horror at night,
It’s only obvious that someone so fake,
Would hide from their true life. |
Submission Name: Elegant Trickery
