LINES OF THOUGHT © 2015
Not even the lipstick on her lips
Has vanished in the midst of the jungle,
Amidst chaos and wise steps,
Its mark remains, beautiful and eternal.
Among leaves and roots, lost on the ground,
There are traces of a shine that does not yield,
The color that defies the darkness,
Keeping the essence where everything fades.
Not even the wild, inhospitable jungle
Erased the trace of one who rises,
For even in the densest exotic thicket,
Beauty persists and never fades.
The lipstick on her lips is a symbol of strength,
That endures, even when the jungle advances without remorse.