In the extreme corner of the room,
There's a window looking at the white moon...
The music she once played,
Long before your fights were laid...
Dwelling in her regrets,
Like the gray ash of combusted cigarettes...
With her he used to dally,
Before he got lost in the mighty valley...
The damsel looks at the world with her translucent silver veil,
With damp eyes she looks at that dale...
The damascened dagger,
Her lost lover...
She jinxed the sky with duress,
She dances each step with distress...
She has the silent wrath of the waves,
The broken pieces of her heart she saves...
Picture from the net- (dmacwilliam.wordpress.com)
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Groove to the era