She couldn't dye her hair black enough,
In this room of white only dark would tear,
There stood then danced her hair in waves,
Mourn; mourn the loss of his previous self,
The text be said is but font none be read
Apart from her lens equipped shall decipher,
Till each initial on each wall shall break through;
Yet still she dances to no end at all. 
Only the eldest lady in the dark peers through,
Thence those walls beheld her on the streets,
Yet she continues to dance and seek redemption,
Yet she continues to care not for those ill of her,
But whilst the day passes on rain and singing heat
The hour-glass beholds a single eye peddling within
Transpiring within a sight of Saturn her iris in form,
Let the glitter in her eyes continue; she's yet to cry:
With every drop let our world be the dance floor enjoyed,
Let each step illumine one path.
This much she knew and spoke to his former self,
Even whilst she uses God her greatest tool,
Yet she continues to dress in colours of the soul.

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