The Flawed Lass From The Erroneous Lane

Tucked away in the crimson corner,
She was named after Isabel,
An allure so beckoning; an armour of candour,
Could not save her from the augmented danger.
Alas, she was preyed upon by the assertions of a Jezebel.

Condemned; bore down the severe censure,
For her inpromptu ventures.
Vandalized for her intemperence,
Accusations accounted for her impropriety;
Shackled and suppressed was she, by the civilization.

The lads got warned from their mommas,
Not to please the hush-hush place with their presence.
Abandoned was that place for decadent debauchery;
Though didn't stop them from the snobbery.
Disregarded; illumination by her candescent light.

Never were questions asked for the lechery,
Only was Isabel constrained into promiscuity.
A battle long lost, she was fighting;
From the lewd glances and impish notoriety, she was acquainted.
Accustomed with the prudish words, with crimson red she was tainted.

Sneers, laughs, derision and chaff she accepted,
But only an iota of affection she sought.
In a manner so clandestine, on a quest of enduring love, she was.
She was the unrequited lover of the night,
Alas! She was just a Jezebel.