As she bath she remembers,
How had she been,
So ignorant of herself,
Never to look at mirror..
Was the fate of her face…
Never to be free of tangles,
Was the fate of her hair,
skin left unnourished,
aah what kind of a women is she?
ever blissfull, self contained,
and above all a free spirit,
and now that her body as all perfume,
skin as silk, pouts so lusidious,
hair as cascade…
she wonders if she lost herself in this pre wedded moon?