The stirs of echoes.

The stir of echoes I hear. 

I hear echoes whenever you are near. Men gaze and stare at your beauty. Your spell is in the air. You have eyes that make even the stars run and hide. The sun won't set and the moon won't rise whenever you come by. The flowers won't open, and your name will never be spoken. You use men like a bag of tokens, but your beauty only lasts one day, and that was yesterday. The spell is broken, and you have no more tokens; your golden hair and eyes have faded. Now the men are running, hiding, and walk right by. That's no big surprise. Yesterday has arrived. You can't even get a ride.