By Simran Bance.
The maiden knew from the very start,
as she first embraced the salty air,
the thousands of men, who built her heart,
would cry when she would go.
The second sister of the three,
freshly painted a base of white,
was born to own the seven seas,
and reign the guiding stars.
From the moment she left the shore,
her delicate body against the world,
never has one been so adored,
and lost to the icy winds.
But even the finest must be flawed,
as the water pierced her gilded skin,
and all that could disguise her cries,
was the drowning tune of violins.
So her heart sank to the ocean floor,
shedding now in murky depths,
her corpse amongst the dormant bliss,
her ghost haunting the blue abyss.
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