Set of stories established into a sheet,
Linked with grace of hands that seems to be dull and shaken,
She keeps on gracing until love hates,
Dealing on matters that are not taken.
Love to her is honest, pure and mind-soothing,
Although she knows her story is not that good-ending kind of thing,
But!
She keeps her hope and keep going,
To find an end that basically teared her soul crying.
The truth she knows and shall be the only truth,
Not every love story comes with happy ending,
She might be dreaming and hoping,
To be that Princess waiting for Prince Charming.
At the end,
That set of stories tells it all,
It told the world how unfair the tapestry was made for,
Trembled hands put hatred and evil pure,
And not that beautiful, elegant tapestry that she was hoping for.
She cried.
Because she knew it all. Too well.
No comments:
Post a Comment