I know a girl,
a wonder rare,
who clings to dreams spun in moonlit air.
She believes in whispers of timeless lore,
of true love, of soulmates—forevermore.

Through shadowed streets, her heart she shares,
a fragile token of hopes laid bare.
To those she trusts, she gifts a part,
a piece of her ever-beating heart.

All she seeks is love’s sweet embrace,
a kindred spirit, her destined place.
But oh, I fear for her radiant flame,
so pure, untouched by the world’s cruel game.

Each time she loves, her spirit weeps,
for faith misplaced, a wound that deepens.
I dread the day her light might fade,
her hope consumed by the dark cascade.

For if that spark should ever die,
the world would dim, the stars would sigh.
And I, a witness to her quest,
would choose to lay my heart to rest,

For better death than the bitter sight,
of her surrendering love’s final light.