• She stood not at the top of the world,
    But rather at its core
    Up in her pillar of conquest
    And lived a life of glitz and glamour

    She was esteemed by all
    And yet never bequeathed heart to anyone
    For she believed it was tacit all
    To be somebody and not to be held by someone

    Every start crammed her every night
    The moon shone upon each deft step
    But she persisted on being the most vivid light
    Known to all with breath

    Her name was branded in every land
    Due to her repertoire,infinite as the golden grains of sand
    Like a stupendous antique,valuable
    Shrouded in tiers of montage glass,
    Unbreakable

    But beneath the veil was a woman with no identity
    Who plays the piece of somebody who does not exist
    This orb is her arena, and populace, her unwary costars
    Oblivious to her true self behind that professional mist

    Underneath the mask surged
    The tears of silent pain
    Of a lady who never lived her years
    Who never had any peers
    Of a woman, who, not once,
    Seized in her grasp the world
    Of the woman
    Whose role she performed

    But despite her torment
    She chose to carry on
    Banishing all her resentment
    For this was all she had

    And all she'll ever be
    A woman with no past
    With a present that's unsure
    Until when it'll last

    But when she specks of the hourglass
    Had all been spent
    Her precious time had then run out
    And there lying in her deathbed
    She whispered with much regret:

    "How I wish I have loved and kept
    All the astounding people I have met,
    Had given back the ardor that they warranted
    And not be dying now in debt."