Her eyes spoke of solitude, of
how she was left in the dark,
cold and haunted, shivering
on strong winds,
Even her towel refused
to wipe her tears.

Again her lips spoke maturity,
how she moved on,
stood up on the same streets
she was left alone, and
smiled with the same lips,
she once moaned with.

But, She, herself spoke love.
A creature so beautiful,
that, The Moon blushes
under her aura, and
The Stars wants to be
the jewelry to her skin,
Where as, all he wanted,
was to be the towel, that
would always wipe,
her tears, for other's sin ...