Midnight Lunacy

Got her moonstruck self trapped in a vintage page,
Where her silly skylark sings lonesome in a cage.
She was me once, holding Andromeda in her smile,
All the nights have changed, but I am in moonshine.
Ask not for the moon, so not her sly fancy,
She stays wide awake, for midnight lunacy,
Perhaps she is possessed, much confined to herself,
Her soul meets herself after the clock ticks to twelve.
Therefore, she fakes a thousand smiles in silver,
Her midnights linger like nights in December.
There she finds herself, howling at the moon,
Awaits spring's grace, for winter to end soon.
She may not seem fine, so not as your sight,
Hence she is ivy, her beauty wrapped in blight.