She stood by the church and sung clearly,

her sweet, mellow voice echoed on,

her hair sweeping past her knees as,

she sung a foreign, bitter song.

Her eyes were dark and sunken,

whilst her clothes she wore were damp,

her pale white skin lit up instantly,

as the moon light tickled and danced.

She held a candle and swayed lightly,

as a perfume of spices aroused,

her feet tapping lightly to the beat of,

the sounds of the night that tapped ground.

She was there until six a.m,

the time before sun would rise,

a faint muffled sound echoed off every wall,

as that girl had now entered the skies.