Analysis of An Unfortunate Tale

She was a glimmering beam of light

And though she was tattered and destroyed,  

Never frozen, her last breath remained.

Through the thicket and vile whip of vines,

Her pride was never shattered

The day of her demise was soon to come.

Her strength stretched upon the valley, the sky, and moon

But his was of the universe, every impenetrable nook and cranny.

The goddess of Angels was she, and a sinner was he

An evil doer, a catalyst of destruction.

Though one would dream of the splendor and opulence of her grace,

That was not so.

His poison drove cracks deep into her orb

Forever broken, she stills

His deadly kiss

And her lethal deception

For he, her killer

Had been the true victim.