Saturday, February 12, 2011

A mystery called woman

A creation of complexity,
A flower with differently hued petals;
The last of the creation -
an embellishment to the life on earth.
Born out of testosterone,
She imbibed a part of every creation,
The highest of all forms
A mystery that is yet to be solved.

A form so elegant,
Like a sculptor's creation of love;
She is the epitome of all that is beautiful
An effigy of serenity, an angel in the purest form...

She is the Power, the Courage to lead a war...
The brightest fire to burn out the cold and the dark
yet she can be the very black night to take the light out of your life.
Like a parasite she will eat away your soul,
And you so willingly will surrender to her power...

When she is a mother, a daughter or a loving sister
Or a friend and a doting wife,
She will take away your pain with her love and care...
And sacrifice herself just to see you alive.

She is a silent prayer of a troubled mind,
A meditation of a searching soul
she is the reflection of the creator's mind,
A mystery in the form of a woman.

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