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.
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