She shines like a black pearl
drenched by the pale moonlight.
Most have to look twice to catch the glint
on the sable surface;
pass by again to admire the
beauty;
or you might even have to go as far as to
scour the seas,
plunge your hand into thick, ebony mud,
pry that white treasure box apart
to discover the marvel
of a dark haired girl
with bright green eyes.

But who has the time
to stop and look back
or makes that kind of effort?
The glitter in the night is hard to notice
by the untrained eye of most.

So she finds herself so hopelessly alone
when the black has cornered her.
Where have they gone,
those faithless ones,
those who abandoned her,
when she fell into them?
What is love but a wind to her
that passes as soon as it pleases.

The skeptical goddess scorns the mirror,
fears the sleep in which to rely on
as comfort in the night.
Why believe in others
who hardly believe in her?
She cries
those tears that never fall.
Why believe in anything at all?

Though she may not know it
she walks in beauty
with a satin train of those she’s touched,
those eyes of emerald never leave the hearts
of the eyes who’ve watched her shine
with admiration,
love.
Cause the girl is worth the search,
the sight,
and she leaves a trail of pearls when she walks.