The Venus
The Venus Curse. The pearl, so warm yet frozen, The feathers of grief and the winds of blue. They curl inside the palm Of a star so lone, the eyes so dry. She was waiting, a purple flower on her bossom Dying, so glib, the vision. A paramount hazard, a crime of the departed. The foe of affection itself, the purple fades. But she melts faster, a dream to relinquish A life she never lived. The white of the pearl still vibrant. The Adonis crap, the sole reason Reckless, Oblivious, maybe pretentious The white should've saved the purple on her chest, But love failed by itself. Something greater became accountable. But never spoke of it The winds and the neem grieved with her, But the sea always held back A woman, needy, adorned and helpless With nothing but herself, blushed. If love was the medicine, she overdosed Like the lady with the purple rose.
