deepundergroundpoetry.com
About Her for Her and with Her
Her is her, in the quiet hours of dawn.
A whisper in the stillness, a breath of the morning air.
Her presence is a thread in the tapestry of time
weaving patterns of herself and fragments of others.
In the mirror, Her sees reflections,
not just one own, but countless faces.
Each gaze a story, each smile a secret,
Her identity shifts, dances, in the fluidity of moments.
Her walks the path of many,
one's steps echoing in the lives of others,
adopting roles, shedding skins, becoming more than one.
Yet in Her heart, there is a constant beat,
a rhythm of Her true self, persistent and strong.
In the end, being many enriches the one's soul.
A kaleidoscope of experiences, a mosaic of lives.
Her remains herself, a beautiful enigma,
forever evolving, forever being, forever becoming.
A whisper in the stillness, a breath of the morning air.
Her presence is a thread in the tapestry of time
weaving patterns of herself and fragments of others.
In the mirror, Her sees reflections,
not just one own, but countless faces.
Each gaze a story, each smile a secret,
Her identity shifts, dances, in the fluidity of moments.
Her walks the path of many,
one's steps echoing in the lives of others,
adopting roles, shedding skins, becoming more than one.
Yet in Her heart, there is a constant beat,
a rhythm of Her true self, persistent and strong.
In the end, being many enriches the one's soul.
A kaleidoscope of experiences, a mosaic of lives.
Her remains herself, a beautiful enigma,
forever evolving, forever being, forever becoming.
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