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There she stands, in her dark field of envy
Crushing flowers which scream: ‘Please let us be’
As they face their awful destiny.
Her face of stone, so cold, so vain;
Never welcomes the sun, only the rain.
A visage of jealousy, and now, bitter relief;
These rivals to her beauty have come to grief.
An angel by day, and Medusa by night
She slays all those that dare challenge;
Her world of picture perfect sight. |
