xxxix. SHE WRECKS AND SHE IS WRECKED

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And ho !

Meet the beloved maiden,
sweetness superior and beauty laden.

Greet the path to her haven,
for there you meet the masked maven.

For she is the pompous woman,
who does leer and prance.

As she has thieved, she has stolen,
every chance, her every chance.

And to her beguiling tune,
they are now dancing.

For she is the epitome of beauty,
causing these men to keep glancing.

And so her blue-hued gaze lifts,
letting her love be given gifts.

And in the aftermath, away they all gallop,
while she immerses herself in her own wallop.

And so she is bathed in her misery,
on the breadth of this vicious scenery.

For to standardize herself alone,
is her only righteous atone.

Because she is a dream so serene,
men forget what their vows do mean.

As she clutches the fallen ring in her hands,
she whispers, "how can I do something so obscene?"

Poesy of EloquenceWhere stories live. Discover now