Tuesday, October 29, 2013

PRINCESS PLUTO

This descent of Pluto
Cold and closed she was
So afraid of the non existent
Only knew caution in exaggeration

In the time to sprout
Even the air She also dreads
Like a naïve snail in its shell
Her only friend is herself

Born with a rare gift
That stirs the canary’s jealousy
Even the wildest of beasts
By it they are soothed

Crafted in the image of beauty
And after the likeness of innocence
In her is found the purest of hearts
Even Angels envy this wonderful specie

In her private world of one
She was learning and not living
Like a locked book with a strange language
Smoke could be understood but not her

After her cocoon session
She arose unidentical to her former
Dwelling amongst the basest of creatures
Beside her, swines suddenly Saints

On the scale of virtue she weighs nought
She has listened to the songs of men
Now that Saint is no more
This new breed lacks a pinch of purity

You might fall for her looks
But trust not her smooth tongue
Though She can be pure again
But will she divorce her present path?

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