I'm writing to you on the eve of glory
To tell you I had no choice but to let you go.
Your veins were poisoned by the act of savagery,
And you became a person I could never wish to know.

Your emerald eyes were all lit up,
Just like the cigarette that once calmed your stress.
Your hair was tied back by one single clip:
Messy, vintage-like, just as your dress.

I recall the first words you ever spoke to me:
They included, of course, Prince Charming's name.
And since you awoke one morning and stepped into reality,
You just simply have not been the same.

What was it that spiked you?
What broke inside your pure heart?
Was it there all along, just looming in the background?
Or have I been naive from the very start?

I based my dreams on the world that you had.
You were my motive to remain strong:
To hold on hoping that one day I could have it too.
Even a piece of me broke, when you proved yourself wrong.

And days have passed since I last thought of you.
Weeks too, since we've seen eye-to-eye.
Your heart turned cold and your mind went dark..
I just want to know why?

So Lady Cheyenne, if you're reading this, I ask you
To find yourself a mirror, and dare to look through:
Take a look at the person who is staring within the silver,
And I want you to acknowledge that she is not you.