She Walk's In Beauty

She walks in beauty, soft and clear,
Through whispered worlds, both far and near.
With grace as light as morning’s sigh,
She drifts like stars across the sky.

Her steps are verses, deep and slow,
A rhythm soft, a gentle flow.
With every glance, the earth stands still,
Time bending to her quiet will.

Her eyes, a twilight’s quiet gleam,
Are secrets caught within a dream.
No sun could paint so fine a shade,
As the light her laughter made.

The night unfolds beneath her feet,
As stars within her presence meet.
The moon, a silver ghost on high,
Dips low to glimpse her passing by.

In every shadow, every sound,
There’s something rare, a beauty found.
She moves as though the world is small,
And hers to wander, hers to call.

A mystery in the midnight’s veil,
A whispered tale, a nightingale.
She holds the dark, she spins the light,
A dawn awaiting each new night.

With every step, with every breath,
She dances on the edge of death.
Yet in her gaze, a warmth remains,
A spark untouched by winter rains.

She walks in beauty, soft and free,
A fleeting song, a melody.
Through shadowed lands, through soft-spun air,
Her beauty lingers everywhere.