Quiet, she is.
Lost in her own maze of dreams.
The labyrinth she creates,
Made her mind a lost cause of paradox;
Made her ethereal heart shine with all its glory.
However delicate her lithe and corporeal self,
She needs no protection all the way to the end.
She, an epiphany in which the world saw.
Evanescent, ephemeral, whichever suit her smile the best,
Makes it to be treasured always and forever,
By which it keeps its essence out of reach from those who wish to ruin her beauty.
Above all, wearing the crown of perfection befitting for a queen, she stands atop of everything and everyone.
Alone. Lonely. Hoping.
As her quiescent world watched her every moves.
Quiet, she is.