Girl of beauty, Girl of poise,
Girl with tear-filled eyes,

Hair of silver, Heart of gold,
A secret story, Not yet told,

Wrapped in silk, Draped with pearls,
All the lies, Begin to swirl,

Outside white, Pure and true,
Inside black, Guilty too,

Her skin smooth, her lips red,
Her soul torn, Her fate dead,

With a knife, In her hand,
Time rushing, Just like sand,

Her eyes close, Slow and Smooth,
As the knife, Peirced her through,

With a push, Of her hand,
The blade cut, Following command,

Not a shriek, Nor a cry,
Passed her lips, Just a sigh,

There was nothing, Not a pain,
Just the dark, A spreading stain,

Out came red, Bleeding freely,
Red was warm, Blades were steely,

Her body folded, Her limbs still,
Obeying herself, Her deathly will,

There she lay, Upon the floor,
A girl unmoving, A life no more,

From the North, A breeze came,
Bearing its burden, The dead its aim,

Caught her soul, Brought it down,
Over the earth, Upon its crown,

Left a dew, Covered each thing,
With a small, But precious cling,

Like the girl, The dew sparkled,
An outside light, Its rays angled,

If one looked, Just a little closer,
They would feel, The lie's blur,

For however lovely, Dew may be,
It hides a secret, Pays a few,

From its center, To the edge,
Dew is cold, A pained wedge,


Dew of beauty, Dew of poise,
Dew from tear-filled eyes.