Lace and Shadows: A Poem for Gothic Lolita
In twilight stitched with velvet thread,
She walks where angels fear to tread.
A parasol, so black and fine,
Spins secrets in the moon's design.
Lace like cobwebs, silken grace,
A porcelain mask on a haunted face.
Frills that flutter, boots that gleam,
She’s stitched from myth, from darkened dream.
Not just a dress, but armor worn,
Of innocence and fury born.
Each ribbon speaks of silent might,
Each bow a banner in the night.
Let others chase the fleeting sun,
She blooms where dusk and starlight run.
A rose within a graveyard grown,
Majestic in her monochrome.
No costume this, but sacred creed—
A love of beauty, art, and need.
To cherish black, not out of gloom,
But as the richest, rarest bloom.
So raise your teacups, hearts unfurled,
To girls who paint a gothic world.
Who find in shadows something sweet—
A lace-clad world beneath their feet.
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