She Would Be a Nymph

She would be a nymph,
A maiden of perfection,
Of utter beauty-
A spring of healing grace.
For man is healed by her mere essence.
Within such potential, a purity unknown to its beholders.

She would trade all her mortality,
The hopes of one day laying down the blade of life
And resting for an eternity.
No, she could not wait for a heaven, and opted
For it to be brought to her while she lived.
And thus was trapped as Maiden.
Never to mature, never to grow,
Always to be perfect in one blazing moment.
A single moment for an eternity,
A mighty comet bound for nowhere.