She had a thousand faces,
Each hung and turned gracefully on a rack,
A rack that only she had the strength to balance,
And each of her faces spoke in a different tongue,
But when all thousand voices synchronized the harmony mimicked that only produced by love,
With a lavender scent and a porcelain face,
Royal embers burned in a powdery rage,
For behind every cracked white faith,
Is suspended a hidden strength.