She was the desert to the oasis
A regal slave
She was nothing common
She was fine art to the blind and music to the deaf
A misfit amongst oddities
She was nothing common
She was perfect intent that got lost in the ruse of desires
A dandelion in the storm
She was nothing common
She was the jeweller's pride.
The rarest of aesthetics
And the desire of vain men.
She was nothing uncommon, yet
she was nothing common.
Photo: From Pinterest
