In the dim-lit room where shadows dance,
Her words linger, a fleeting glance.
The echoes of her pen still speak,
In whispered tones, the truth we seek.

Beneath the stars she found her muse,
Her spirit soared, she could not lose.
Yet time, the thief, with stealthy grace,
Has drawn her from this earthly place.

Her verses, a balm for weary souls,
In every line, her heart unfolds.
A legacy of light and fire,
That burns forever, never to tire.

Though silence claims her gentle breath,
Her words defy the grasp of death.
In every stanza, every rhyme,
She lives beyond the bounds of time.