Beauty’s daughter, who did shine;
fate and fortune made her mine.
But when years of youth were gleaming,
she trod softly from my dreaming.
Like the dew on leafy lawn;
she dissolved, one day, at dawn.
When the midnight moon was waking
Beauty’s daughter – born for breaking,
tore in two the poet’s heart,
though she’d sworn she’d not depart.
She was cursed to be capricious:
offspring of two vipers, vicious,
she thought, but they adopted
and so, for them, she opted.
Gone, the gleam of glory trailing
from the clouds she was once was sailing.
Beauty’s daughter tried to fight
love she felt, with all her might.
But the fire just kept on burning;
secretly, the tide was turning!