Isabel Nor

Once alone on a dark dreary night, sat atop of a sill streaming of light.
A girl known by the name of her past engagements. Isabel Nor will you
please join us here under the floor? A place where she'd like to be, but
never until she earned her key. Full of depressing thoughts was she. At
last, can it be? A living life form draws near. Is it for Isabel dear? A
strange boy with black clothes, hung from his head to his toes. Does he
know of Isabel Nor? Or why she lay from vengeance on the floor? Can it
truely be just a case of curiousity? Approches the handle, though he
must. An itching feeling he can not trust. Into a house unknown, for
would he even see, though big green lustering eyes that shown for
Isabel's eyes alone. Or was it his pitch black hair that covered the veil,
that reminised Isabel's hungry stare? As he crept up the stairs, she too
wandered down the spiraling tower or terror. Met in the middle, a
cross roads of two. Would Isabel finally get a clue? On task said the
one. Inside her head wasn't much done. Up the stairs the boy went,
sewing greatly into his bed. Didn't he know about Isabel Nor? A girl so
ungreatful she had to ignore. Not a jolt, not a tot, not a old woman to sit
and rot. The girl had no care it seemed, for possibly only in her dreams.
He stood tall and waiting for a demand. Hipnotized by Isabel's staring
eyes. He would not stop, he could not break. What was his ill fate?
Isabel could only dig, damn and ill. Poor soul of Will. Here lies a fate
that could only kill.