She may close her eyes to reality but not to fantasies,
She may close the door on her past but not on memories,
She suffers sheer agonies from the tremor and past ecstasy,
For they have gambled a salient role in her melancholies.
The pain murkier than the nefarious desires,
Raiding her unfettered essence and spirit to perish,
Will she ever slaughter her woeful, miserable charm?
Hold sway over her honor , her soul to once again furbish?
