“She is always enveloped in infinite mercy of her Lord.”

Her veins are filled with the ink that writes onto the paper of her life and canvas.

She kneeled in front of him and drank away the teardrops, that was the power she held with her healing aura.

She is the lighthouse that guards the ship, the shore, the sea of his life, without her, there is no him.

Her end was her beginning, and her every new start was the end to her old version.

She wanted him to touch her velvety plush and blossom core, till she moans out words of prose and poetry.

Her thunders, storms, lightning, are destructive or life-giving but it all depends on who is standing in front of her.

She wish to read the minds of those who smiled wickedly at her, let her be the wolf to devour madness.

She is a woman, with softness in her smiles and pores but a steel firm core that is an epitome of strength.

Will you cherish me or ravish me with your wildness, if you were to know who I am in reality?

She stood at the tip of obstacles, but never blind to the light of faith.

It pains to be insulted every time you breathe when I am your oxygen but you have to wish to breathe.

I look at the lines around his eyes, they are my road map to my happiness.

She had a precious light in her heart, that kept him alive in the moments he desired death, she was his savior.

This life is no less than a war for power, will you be kind enough to let me rule you, Oh my Mind?

He had her scent seeping out of pores.

I look at the mirror today and see the woman I am transforming to be, beyond measure and just wow.

If you’re that obsessed with someone, why would you kill her? Humans are full of contradictions.

His hands are saying that he wants to hold her. His feet are saying that he wants to chase after her… He’s probably forgotten that I’m here, beside him

My sister is 4 years older than me and I’ve always looked up to her, she was the girl I always wanted to be.

One day the heart will realize how the words hurt her, that she silently stopped existing instead of feeling broken up.

When self love become her mantra, her breaths became standards which had nothing to do with attitute or arrogance.

If one day I have a daughter and my daughter wants to be a model, I would never let her!

A vertical stroke: the male who penetrates her.

I don’t date my girlfriend because she’s a model. I date her because I love her.