The clouds are rolling in.
Thick and dark they threaten.
She is holding her feelings in.
She will never learn her lesson.

Standing, soaked from the rain.
Strolling on the edge of the cliff.
Long missed, the last train.
Longing for the life of a nymph.

Late night, moon shone
Lastingly over the eerie scene.
Only the little girl alone,
On a hill so serene.

Openly she smiled upon
Oceans of endless suffering.
The smile sweet as cinnamon of Ceylon,
Tarnished by the world’s wuthering.