The Stains On Her White Dress 
She once walked upon a solemn path of flowers, 
A beautiful girl with eyes greener than the brightest patch of grass. 
Her fingers, gentle and plump, 
Always adorned a white dress— 
White as the clouds, 
White as snow. 
With every step forward, the fabric kissed her delicate ankles, 
Her hips swaying with the rhythm of the wind 
As she danced barefoot upon the damp earth. 
She sank her feet into the cool, rainy mud, 
Letting her troubles slip away with it. 
A lush life, 
A perfect day. 
But perfection never lingers. 
A jealous figure watched from the shadows— 
Eyes brown as the dirt, 
A dull, heavy brown that dragged them down like wet soil. 
Envy burned within them, sharp as thorns, 
Fixated on the girl who moved so freely. 
Their gaze, dark with desire and disdain, bore into her. 
"Take my hand," they whispered. 
"I will show you why you shouldn't stay so pure." 
Her wide eyes, once untouched by sorrow, 
Lit up with something new— 
Curiosity, naivety, a yearning to be seen. 
Her heart-shaped lips curved into a sudden smile. 
She placed her hand in theirs, and followed. 
At first, they adored her. 
Loved her, even. 
Until they realized how easy she was to lie to. 
"Do you love me?" they asked. 
"To my moon and back," she answered, smiling. 
"Then prove it—cut the flowers that pave your path." 
Hesitant, she obeyed, severing the very blossoms 
That once carved her path. 
A quick, forced smile masked the hollow ache in her chest. 
The days blurred into years, 
And every day, the same demand: 
"Prove your love." 
The flowers, the grass, the trees— 
Even her own hair fell to the blade of devotion. 
"I am just trying to help you," they murmured. 
But she could feel their words staining her white dress, 
Seeping into the fabric like ink. 
Still, she smiled. 
This was love, wasn't it? 
This was what she had learned. 
Love comes in many forms. 
She just never thought it would feel so dirty. 
And with every word, another stain took root— 
A promise of a peaceful end, 
A love as bitter as Eve's poisoned fruit. 
Her purity, torn and shredded. 
The earth she once was, now laid bare, 
No longer swaying, 
No longer adorned in white. 
Never again.