The ripple of her eyes,
Soused her bow,
into wand of melancholic spells,
Reverberating,
forlorn violin strings..
She lost herself,
in a pensive drop of mist,
While, faint echoes of
her wailing heart,
bemused everyone...
_________
And her poetry was written on every stone she melted to mould a shield for her masterpieces that no one understood...
