Hazel eyes, stained with innocence,
Beauty of perfection, of imminence,
Bed of roses, fragrance of her neck,
His bones are always getting weak.

Beneath the pail moonlit night,
Flaming hearts, the only light,
Cold wind whispers words of love,
His arms, her warmth, a hug.

She stands in front of the mirror,
Cries a river of tears, in terror,
Eyes once stained with innocence,
Into imperfection, into imminence.