But then she had no scar nor the wound underneath her shadow
She was perfectly fine from the appearance she had or like she showed
But in the world of possibility, there was something colluding; maybe me too
No else were found with calmness after the betide of enigmatic beauty woe
And I was no different from any of those who were on the verge to distinguish her themselves
So if anyone would guess, everyone would be betting on the colour from the fallen leaves
But that wasn’t near; close of any preciseness or unequivocal answer
They can only pretend to know on the shade of a beautiful tree
As it was unpleasant to stare the mold of beauty; lost in abyss of limbo sea

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