She's dead just because she's been wanted the Love, with no any limits, or ceiling or bound.
She fell off because she's been flying so high, with feeling no body, no sense and no mind.
She lanced into silence 'cause merely speaking was not what she sought; she's been wanted to sing.
All dressed in all white she was whiter then whitewash; she's taken a step with no fear of quitting.
Her soul in the wind was streaming like foliage; and hair with cold waves was broken above nets.
She stripped down the heel as if she couldn't notice the difference between man who's dressed and who's naked.
The game she's been playing's without all restrictions; she fell up to Sky and she crashed into pieces.
She didn't search magical district or region; she lived in the place where no one could if live..
And now she is dead.
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