Bereft of hope, she stands forlorn
Contemplating over the path the world has shown
Some inner conflicts and some sudden flare-ups
And purifying the recurring spasms and teary ebbs
Here, she walks into the dark woods
Hiding herself from phantoms in masks and hoods

She is a fugitive, and an obdurate lass
Running away from an infallible self-declared demigod
With her hopes envisioned, turning to ash
She’s still trying to rejig and rekindle against all odds

Recollecting the shattered pieces of crushed dreams
She finds herself slightly rattled after the kiss-off
And looking at the gifted crystal pendant that gleams
She wonders how to reincarnate and dust herself off

Now, she is tired and falls asleep
There is rustling of winds, and calmness prevailing
But again the evocative smell gives her the creep
Wait! She hears the footsteps and enters her prince ailing

His appearance snarls up her imaginations
The expression is dead, she seems cold
Gasping heavily and thinking beyond this past obsession
The question thrown is what her fate and destiny hold.

He sits beside and touches to cosset
With the warmth of sunshine sifting through leaves supplementing
But she’s still cold, and now love is no more an aid
As she is over and above the thing for which she had been craving.

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