One Musketeer

There were three musketeers

One is hiding with tears

Sighing in silence

She was longing for the presence

She felt an outcast in their natter

Half-filled emotions she cannot utter

One musketeer is now alone

A fog is lifting at dawn

She noticed the gap in between

Ploddingly dissipating in the scene

One musketeer is now with a heavy heart

Sentiments that she would not want to impart

She remains aloof from time to time

Steering clear that she might cross the line

One musketeer is now in fear

Her four-leaf clover might disappear