dark past

I saw her on the 8th platform,
The pretty lass with deep brown eyes,
She turned around and looked at me,
Her string of pearls breaking free,
From her welled up eyes to the polished floor,
Falling fine,one by one,
And I knelt down,to pick them up,
Only to see her moonlit eyes,
On every little precious dew,
That brought back all buried and burned,
The dark past that never ever drowned,
Poked its head and smiled at us,
Only to make her drop more pearls...