|
Her hair spills past her shoulders
And her sorrow fills the air
She is the incarnation of sadness
And you can't miss her vacant stare.
She has been betrayed and broken
By lovers of the past
She is beautiful in her anguish
But you know she cannot last.
For all her suffering amounts to none
She never reached her goal
All that is left are tattered rags
And the remnants of her soul.
|