She lay upon her white sheets this morning
as the wind stirs the hangings on her bed,
Although the same wind blows across her face,
Lady Isabelle remains still.
Her Waxen skin is still untouched and flawless.
Her once bright eyes are not closed and peaceful.
Her raven hair spread across her pillow,
Like the fan she once hid those eyes behind.
Her lips have lost their rosy hue,
As have her cheeks their similar flush.
Her gown is now stained a shimmering red,
And so are her white sheets.
as the wind stirs the hangings on her bed,
Although the same wind blows across her face,
Lady Isabelle remains still.
Her Waxen skin is still untouched and flawless.
Her once bright eyes are not closed and peaceful.
Her raven hair spread across her pillow,
Like the fan she once hid those eyes behind.
Her lips have lost their rosy hue,
As have her cheeks their similar flush.
Her gown is now stained a shimmering red,
And so are her white sheets.
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