It all began with a thought; could it ever be true? Would her world turn upside down following the alluring morning dew?
Would the wait be wait worthy, or a route to downfall? Could the path she chose lead to avarice, would the epilogue just appall?
She brushed away her concerns, just for a while imagined
She’d be the princess of the world, the statue of righteousness
The power and fame derailed her, thoughts scattering astray
She held on to her senses, praying for all forgiveness
She knew not what the future held, nor what the present meant
Just one thought traversing her soul; the day would not be far
When little doves seized her pure white train, longer than the aisle itself
When her heels would tap against the floor, would the butterfly leave its jar?
