Katherine lies in the sound of a whisper.
She is a melody,a tune in the breeze of a mid summer nite,The moon that shines and sings of the whipperwheel.A pure heart clinche in the midst of emotional,outburst.She is the sound of a river running,into an ocean of desire.She feels the satin of a heart,once tathered sewn,though never perfect again.She walks among the beauty of a rose garden,but,never will be a rose herself.She will dress in white,but never will she be a virgin.Her life became a journey to forbidden places,of uncertanities.But,her strength moved mountains.She carried the swore of honor.And the shield of grace.She rumble with solitude,and carried sorrow on her back,and still was a lady.
She wore a crown of gold,and never was a queen.Her robe,silk,and cover the soul of poor.Yet she remained a lady.Worn,and troubled,her spirit maybe,but she will always be the lady in me.
