She sits by her marbled effigy
feeling the cold wind biting hard
and as the snow falls around her
she pulls out of her sack, her ace card

This one will rely on pity
now so away from the city
she sends it spinning in the air
only to land back in her curly hair

She has become a broken substitute of womanhood
a lost and forgotten echo of pure shame
yet all she did was only for good
her ignorance was all she could blame

So by the chimes of midnight
she sees the follies of her ways
then waits for winter and spring to end
till the kind heart and warmth of May

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris