“She is your foe not me”, this is what he said to her
“She is the traitor, not me”, this is what he said to her
“She was lurking, not me”, this is what he said to her
He made her believe this, convinced her, forced her
And she believed, was convinced, was coerced
Now sitting by the window, gazing at the withered lilies, she is glacial.
Her thoughts provoking her to think
Was she really the one who was her foe?
Her conscious blaming her
Was she really the traitor and not him?
Her mind connecting all the dots
Was she really lurking around him?
Her heart pinching at her thoughts
As she conceded her traitor her foe, her culprit
But would she dare ask him,
Or let her be her foe?