WHITE ANGEL

Only the days are numbered
She is the beauty to be found
In her a castle of comfort is built
Inside her eyes is the mustard seed of healthy living
This were the word of the Oracle but her tales is a water in the eye.
She is a curse of misfortune, a description before she was abandoned on the pile of dirt
Where wind freeze the skin and scream like a laughing hyena.
Found on the blink of death of a deadly cold surface that freeze the cloud,
On a night that sing the song of lullaby.
If human grab the extent of patient, mortal would have escaped the falling of the great rain that shed tears
It they new the frog node yes to the question we asked in the dark, the world would not have been eccentric.
But since live grows in tomorrow and the probability of wail is uncertain
The young progeny walk through the shadow of death
Her soul was preserved in the light while her shadow moan in the dark,
Like a butterfly that find nectar, once a red sea as a child and a blue sea as an adult, her red attire was swap by faith.
The words of the spirit is a blossom plant that grow in the heart
The word of the gods speak in her prosperity
The voice of the wind is heard like a ringing tune of the nightingale
When nature smile to her misfortune to be fortune
And the wither leaves, on the first day when the sky fall on the ground, a new flower hatch out of the field..
I saw a warm embrace life gave when the dew was dry on the surface of the leaves