The existence penned in volumes natural as the air traveling through creation lovers and enemies afflicted stretching across nations we all get a taste exalted and bludgeoned by the undeniable power of love's captivity
Every time I read Maya’s poetry, I’m in awe of the emotion she conveys, But every time I see her portraits, I can’t but help sense her pain. In each of her pictures she tell a story, Of trials and tribulations and triumphs, Because in her smile she conquered it all, And her works surely made her a giant. Maya’s portraits always show a resilience, Her experiences made her even stronger, In her face there is a soulful grace, With a gift that brought her honor.
It isn't given it isn't taken it just begins slowly no one noticing dark empty skies dead beautiful flowers then a reversal of extreme power nothing's black except for the blue people wonder is this really you smile big and proud give twinkle fingers for your shrouded crowd they waited patiently for the heart to break show them the truth, show them all heartache.