A Step Above Poem by Bryan Taplits

She's not drear like the curtsying heavens
Where the clouds they drip their doom,
She's more like the rising Dawn-
'Mischief's' spawn-
A sprite without a tomb.
No embers of December has she
She glows like an iron tool,
Pretty, 'No'; She'll never be pretty-
But, 'Oh'! Is she's beautiful.
A wraith, she entered my locked heart,
And made this sinner believe,
'Yay! '
She unlocked my heart using one of her darts-
And so forever will stay with me.