She is a beautiful paradox,
A melody that could create havoc in your head,
You could spend hours and hours toiling the thoughts in your mind,
Just enough to make you wish you were dead.


She is born out of sins and chaos,
A ravishing beauty of the utmost wilderness,
In the world’s eyes she is just an innocent coddled child,
But to the ones who know her, the Devil’s incarnate resting on the world’s crest.


Pearls, diamonds and gold don’t seem to interest her,
She owns enough riches to make even Midas frown,
Young, naive and reckless, people call her,
Unable to understand why fake riches cannot buy her happiness, just like they did the town.


Those green eyes, that devious smile , the rich hues of her brown hair,
Oh! How these suitors wish they could claim her theirs,
But just like the irresistible attraction of the moth to a flame,
Little do they know, she has found solace in the Devil’s lair.

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