She

She is dark and twisted fair,
blackened eyes and darker hair,
built of shadow and solemn song,
dressed in black with blood spilt on.

She spends her days beneath a tree,
weeping only when none can see,
alone she is and so shall stay,
away from all, especially day.

So through the cold and lonely nights,
her heart is made of naught but ice,
her guard is up and walls in place,
frozen in her self made case.