By Krish Sharma
Beneath the stars, a golden hue,
She strides with grace untold,
A knight whose armor gleams anew,
Her eyes, both fierce and bold.
The weapon, not of iron cast,
But petals sharpened with flame.
Symbol of the wounds I feel,
Killer of evils who took my name.
Through storms that rage and shadows tall,
She guards my trembling soul,
Her voice a balm, her stride a wall,
That makes the broken whole.
With every swing, she parts the dark,
And thorns the night disarm,
Her kindness leaves a burning mark,
A shield from every harm.
The white pegasus, my guiding light,
Through chaos, loss, and strife,
She wields her rose with boundless might,
And blooms within my life.
Though battles rage, her spirit sings,
A melody oh so rare,
For love’s the shield her armor brings,
And helm of angel sprinkles care.
By Krish Sharma
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