The ephemeral girl

She--- a demon She--- a witch She--- must be torched, Thought--- the women, For she, Their men bewitched Loving what has no heart- To love back, She, comes still Taking what she can, taking, until-- She has met the devil's hand-- The change of seasons came too early... A smell of a unique summer flower Dying in the season of winter She crippled her tone Begging the season for kindness As she sat watching old shows Craving moments of only-God-knows If she went outside, the wolves would howl And hate once more would siren through If not solitude then who else To name a companion, Summer and her temperates, dried the final leaf Withered to dust, gone, When the wind filled the shadows.