Published February 6, 2015 by Shreya Rajvanshi

She greets the sun,
With fire in her eyes,
But what she really is,
Is coldness on a cloudy night,
As she longs to hear voices
That could make her
Make her shine like
And would always
Give her
A reason to
Believe, that all lashes
Will leave, leaving behind
A brand new her.
She would talk
With her hands,
And would never let
Her eyes do the talking,
She talks to me,
And I see,
She needs to be loved,
Feel loved, and wants
To look like a
New shade of black,
Beautiful, yet blinding.
Dark, yet guiding.
Hazy, yet shining.


13 comments on “Shades.

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