Her Eyes are the Colour of the Oak Tree,
With an Amber stone glowing underneath
It's when the Sun Hits Her Dilated Pupils that you really Begin to See the Hue.
That's when the Amber stone,
With centuries of Scriptures
Begins to Draw me In
With Hidden Stories Just beneath the surface
Ignited by the Light of the Amber
Burning Like an Invitation, like a Challenge.
A Challenge to Meet Her Eyes
To Lose myself in them and Immolate,
Like a Moth to a Flame
I surrender at the Chance,
Allowing myself to Be A Part of Beauty, without Being Afraid to Get Burnt.