Is but a fleeting thing,
A butterfly with poisoned wings.
It's not for mortal men to have.
Not even when they sing.

A formless shape that conquers you
A shadow in the light.
It's nothing but a beat of heart
Beautiful when new.

She's filled with doubts
And pain, and sorrow.
She lies thru gritted teeth
She promises tomorrow
She lies
But that's not new.