The Wild Song of Woman

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 Oh capriciousness, your name is woman,

A dance of shadows, moonlit and moonless,

In your whims, the stars are often spun,

A mystery woven in silk and dusky dusk.


You bloom like spring’s first fragile flower,

With petals soft as dawn’s first light,

Then fade like whispers on the wind’s hour,

Lost to the night, gone out of sight.


Your laughter is a restless river,

Flowing swiftly, wild and free,

A melody that makes hearts shiver,

A tune that echoes endlessly.


Your tears, the rain on summer’s eve,

Falling gently, then fierce and fast,

A tender ache, a silent grieve,

A memory that’s meant to last.


In every glance, a web you weave,

A spell of charm, a touch of fire,

In every smile, a secret grieve,

A mystery that will never tire.


You are the tide that pulls and waits,

A quiet strength beneath the sea,

You open and you close the gates,

Of what the world can truly be.


A shifting sand, a turning stone,

You hold the secrets of the deep,

A kingdom built and overthrown,

While all the weary world's asleep.


Oh capriciousness, your name is woman,

A wild song that cannot be contained,

In your chaos, life is often spun,

And only in the storm, true hearts are gained.


You are the wind that shifts and sways,

The flame that flickers, then burns bright,

A paradox in countless ways,

A dawn, a dusk, a fading light.


In your unpredictability, lies the art,

Of life’s most precious, fleeting grace,

A wild, tender, beating heart,

That time and space can’t quite embrace.


So let us chase your fleeting shadow,

Embrace the mystery you ignite,

For in your chaos, we find our glow,

And in your storm, our soul takes flight.

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