The intensity of her ocean-like eyes,
full of passion and longing,
penetrate deep beneath the surface,
gazing into the abysmal beyond.
A bit of fragrance always clings
to the hand that gives you roses.
The fragrance has turned stale
much like the wilting flower
and the one it came from.
She is very misleading
and mysterious to the core.
Everyone she passes wonders
about the hurt written all over
as silent pity overcomes them.
Her appearance hints at seduction
but her expression has no more love to give.
