Loved in the night,
Scorned in the day;
Now she wears her cloak of shame
Glittering like emeralds in the sun.
She walks on platforms of her own creation.
Borrowed melodies that pamper her illusions
And imagine all heads turn when she makes her entrance.
Oh Darling of the night and loathed of the day,
Singer of ballads of echoing darkness,
Won’t you halt your staggering steps?
Won’t you dance to the rhythm of a different song?
(Image not mine)
Literary Spaces 