Her eyelids lightly drooped speak multitudes
About the endless haze of ignorance,
Which now, her heart enveloped in the foods
Of wont temptation, shrouds her countenance.
Everything about her screams of life,
Yet through the sheen shines bright the shade of death;
Her beauty cuts through soldiers as a knife,
But all will weep when left without a breath.
And in this lady lies a paradox:
For though her being radiant may seem,
In actuality her golden locks
Evaporate as do awakened dreams.
And so, Sir Knight, it is just as I fear:
No man escapes the grasp of Guinevere.

please crit thanks