Paralyzed was she at the splendor night of day.

Sat she,

when looking through her chambers.

No longer hath she felt her bosom beat

through the rhythm of time.

Stood she,

franchised in front of her reflection. 

No longer could she face her structural idiosyncrasies.

Diffidence,

was her grand conflict. 

Still stood she

in front of her conflicted mind,

as she critically analyzed

the beauty that hath she not realized.