
She sits waiting.
Waiting for her beloved.
he left her years ago.
yet she still waits.
Black hair turning white
Olive skin turning into stone.
bright eyes turning dull and red
she will wait for him forever
through sun or storm.
The candle burns like her love for him.
it will never die
nor will she
the Stone Lady waits for thee.
(i know the poem is dumb i just made it up and i am not very good with poetry)