Was she?

Was she hiding under make-up
In the five-star hotel
She said; “there’s someone out there somewhere
Who wishes me a ne’er-do-well.”

She whispered, almost silent
He perked his ears to hear
Her make-up gave her solitude
Her eyes stared, showing fear

But what did she have to be afraid of?
Her ever-after lay beside
Knowing he was meant for only one
Knowing only she could be his tide

His rising tide of passion
The rising tide of love adored
The rising tide brought by togetherness
Holding hands, forever more.