Your Poetry Dot Com - Inner Beauty

Pretty young faces come back and rescind,
As I walk down the steps,
Near the tower, Where you dwell,
faces form in the bitter cold wind,
but I can't make out, your face in this living hell,
And it's then I know,
your form is divine,
Why it erases uncertainty, I can't tell,
something beyond innonence, something sublime,
when she whispers in my ear,
I can feel, her inner angel,
her inner voices I can hear,
her complexity all melts into me,
then she turns to me and her raven eyes sparkle,
When she smiles,
It's like a million miles of inner beauty.

This poem is Copyright © Bsteel