it burns and stings,
the finest of things.
it comes at a price,
gold will not suffice.

she cries and sings,
she wears many rings.
many tears to shed,
many wounds she bled.

it dances and springs,
but it crippled its wings.
and descend it will do,
to its impending doom.

she can beg and cling,
like a web it will string.
losing her ability to breathe,
last breath she heaved.