Stolen Beauty

She gazed toward the window across father's long oak desk her dimples prettily smirked vision of beauty impressed though a tainted ego lurked. A pale lithe form grew angry the youthful heiress, a rose froth of fine gold flowed sweetly held back with blue silken bows Dark form engulfed her neatly Her clear blue eyes shone evil cold breath frosted panes of glass Her pierced heart bleeds black with dread Evil stole the lovely lass Sweet tortured soul, now is dead.