Made out as perfection-
Indian with not a flaw.
Falling for a loverboy,
with a funny looking jaw.
Sheltered by a no- one,
fell defeated by a lie.
Tears to crown the king himself;
for his ways weren't all that sly.
Now, open with his future wife,
she prayed her life to keep.
For, Pochahontas fell too hard
on a mountain way too steep.
Shadows reflect her lonely tears,
as she lies awake each night -
No wonder her dad loved him so dearly,
he refused to go down without a fight.
A man of his word; the coward himself,
ruined his life and punished no wrong.
For the life lost tonight was but his own -
and there shan't be sympathy for long.
