Dark is the tone of her dress
Woven deep in the shadows
of brittle lives.
Deep is the pain
that dwells with yearning.
She's going away bringing
only her sadness.
The windows are shut
The door is locked.
Vanity cannot forgive itself.

And alone again
She cries quivering like the butterfly's death.
Slowly a touch
So pure and delicate
She can barely feel it
Is that hope?  Is that light?
No, it's despair's dark gown
Get dressed and suffer

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