Hovering in the door way,
Eyes are bright orbs of fiery light,
She closes those eyes
And her heartbeat becomes soft as a petal that floats down a stream,
The water in flight,
Moving quickly so not to miss any action of the day.
She brings her fingers to her lips and kisses love goodbye,
So blessed are the chosen who never fear the lonesome night,
Those whom never betrayed love and its golden eyes,
Of water laden gardens of Eden, haven so high,
But these mortal thoughts can only grasp an inkling
Of what love really is and what Heaven is, or is not,
Nor may never have been.
Perceptions are what we have
These that feed the illusions of what we think,
No, believe is real!
But the truth is ever rarely seen.
Laughter and love echo in the room
As Beauty floats over to her bed,
Its vibrant colors faded just like her heart.
The realness of life hangs heavy in her thoughts,
In a word � possessed � doom.
She rests her head on the silken pillow, closes her eyes,
Beauty is dead.
Beauty is �death� or a ghost who is looking out from her death chamber and looking at all the life and the love she is missing out on. And then she accepts her fate and lay�s down and dies, for real this time.
