Scurrying through melodies and the inked past, she pondered deep on how she could salvage the turmoil that was instituted right before her. Her eyes glistened with tears that resisted her from paroxysm; her lips chaste.

In the castle she grew up in, lived kings and queens, princes and princesses and royal ministers. Yet, she could hear the echoes of piercing silence strip her sanity off her whenever she took lonesome walks in the afternoons in the castle.

There came a day, she took a visit to the commoner's streets and chanced upon a fine young lad. He was a performer on the streets. Intently, she watched him carry out amusing stunts and she found that she blushed whenever the street performer took glances at her while he was performing. Soon, glances and blushes flourished to personal introductions to one another. It wasn't long before they found themselves in utter love with each other.

Day after day, night after night, she thought of nothing but that street performer in idle moments. She knew that it was never going to be possible for her to introduce him to her royal father and mother, for they would be furious and disagreeing. They would shove the affair to secrecy, and would never permit the princess to ever see the street performer again. The relationship would never be discovered or exposed.

One day, a royal subject that was doing his weekly routine checks, spotted the princess and the street performer intimately gazing at each other at the fountain in the middle of the cottages. In suspicion, he turned to telling it to the King. The King got in a rage when he got hold of the news about the princess and the street performer. Without question or further probing, he demanded a guard to lock the princess in her chamber and the street performer was to be sentenced to death immediately. The princess was frantic upon hearing the verdict from her father. Desperate and devastated as she was, there was nothing she could do. She stayed in her chamber weeping, bitter-hearted and agonized.

Still listening to the lullabys while penning down final details of princesshood in her diary, the tears finally rivered down her helpless and vulnerable face. Images of the street performer flashed in her vision as she took off the pin that bound her golden curl-locked hair. She bundled her long hair, stepped up her golden chair, and roped it around the wooden poles that held the ceiling firm. She slid her delicate neck into her hair and, with a gentle push-away from the chair, her body soon became lifeless after a tragic struggle.

It was then, that eternity was embarked.