Yiruma

Her hair was falling with
The colour of the night;
Becoming one with the beauty
of a tranquil emotion.
She could not see the scars on
Her golden body now.
‘It might be the night’, she is whispering to herself
‘Or the water’.
She loved the sensation of water always.
Mostly because it was purifying.
And she, for one moment she turned,
That moment in water she turned to her reflection.
Brand new, and young and
A woman.