"A tragedy where chemerical ghosts of her wounded past possessed her mind and motioned her hands; making her so humorously brave behind this hazy facade of crimson blood and mirky words ; a merciless red and an audacious black."

Such an aureate gold it was,

That fenced her wild eyes ;

Showing off her ethereal irises ;

Hiding all truths behind,

The clink of a silver cased glass

Amidst the hum of icy tunes ;

As daunting as the lies engraved,

In those ceiling-high runes,

Remember her footsteps dared to echo,

in those rumor-stained walls ;

Earning a hiss from the crowds,

Threatened forever by stranded halls,

The royal silk of her attire smirked,

At those creamy gowns - dismay ;

Humming to the stars, a song,

that lulled even devils to pray,

The knocking of her crystal heels,

breakin' floors of heinous lies ;

dancing alone in the room,

damn all those hateful eyes,

The pink of her rosy cheeks,

Ever to mask her blue-grey smile ;

the wicked curve of their lips,

would darkness dare cross her light,

Oh but if you observe, rather than, Flying over with just a mere glance ;

You catch the aphotic melancholy,

lacing her celestial stance,

Those pale creamy hands weighing,

With flashy spinels and moonstones ;

Are mere dust and bones ; weaved,

With lines of threads darkly forlorn,

Those lucent heels of stainless glass,

That clicked on the floor with grace,

Are silver daggers carving her

Leaving scars without a trace,

So when they try stalk the queen,

From the farthest corners of the room;

I wonder if they see her shoulders,

Dropping down to the crown's gloom,

The vivid drama of perfection,

That she has hosted in her heart ;

Ever compliments the argent costume,

That glitters on her face - afar,

Since forever in this masquerade,

Under the stringed theater of stars ;

Her soul has danced herself to death,

To the chords of of her golden mask.