At last it had come
Her much awaited end,
Something which she had awaited;
An invitation heaven or hell-sent.
Now does she lay there –
Still and cold.
With a smile on her face,
Meaning of course untold.
Past were those years ,
When she slogged out living.
Past were those pain,
Those long hours of stifling.
There does she lay dead –
Where once she had cried.
Holding herself together in a piece,
Over her lover who had lied.
The turmoil of thoughts,
When he had left her alone,
The tears shed in secrecy,
Still are alive in this room.
The vengeance she bore;
The joy after her success – yet
The pain in loss of her beloved,
Is still here in recess.
There does she lay contented;
That of herself , she made no fool.
But had lived her life as she liked,
Though to others of wanton and out of control.
