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creative writing.

She walks like dusk adorned in velvet flame,
A paradox of tenderness and thunder,
Her silence wears the architecture of a name,
While storms sleep quietly beneath her wonder.

Her eyes are constellations veiled in rain,
Two galaxies where ancient secrets wander,
She smiles like sunlight resurrecting pain,
Yet keeps her grief where only moonbeams ponder.

Her heart is an atlas inked with scarlet skies,
A sanctuary built from ruins left behind,
She carries broken constellations in her eyes,
Yet blooms like spring where winter once confined.

She is a phoenix disguised in mortal skin,
A rose that learned to flourish through the thorn,
A battlefield where tenderness can win,
A dawn that teaches darkness how to mourn.

Her laughter is a river over stone,
Her presence, like a candle in a crypt,
Yet she has learned the language of her own
And wears her wounds like jewels at her wrist.

Do not mistake her softness for defeat,
For oceans look serene before they rise;
The gentlest flowers can survive the heat,
And diamonds are just pressure in disguise.

So let her be enigmatic, wild, divine,
A manuscript no careless hand can read;
For she is neither yours, nor wholly mine,
She is a universe becoming what it needs.

The big black boxes,rusty and cold,
Covered with bushes, weed, and grass,
On the engine written: "Not to be sold,"
Now just a line of abandoned mass.

Whenever I pass, I just stop and glance,
I've heard that a ghost built a cottage inside,
But there isn't a chance, not even a chance,
That a ghost gets a mortgage to go for a ride.

But once it pulsed warmly,a beast on the track,
Its iron-ribbed chambers alive with a tide,
A sea of bright faces that conquered the black,
With steam touching clouds as it thundered in pride.

It ran like a cheetah,the fastest of deer,
A magnificent soldier without any fear,
Its headlight a lightning bolt, distant and fender, Halted with shouts of a dreary old vendor.

Then came the new era of electric beasts, Deserting the giants that lived on coal's feasts.
It struggled to survive in the cold, bleak mist,
And lost its great fame from the world's noble list.