You can see it in her eyes,
The pain is undisguised,
It's the deeply settled feeling in her heart.
Cuts and bruises on her soul,
Easy come, not easy go
The damage done slim few would call fine art.
They contribute to her fear,
"What a hopeless thing, my dear."
Why, they've left her lying battered from the start.
You must know now though, my friend,
You cannot change her stories end,
In the silence she will tear herself apart.
There's no saving this lost cause,
The fates have wiped away all odds
Of her ever gaining knowledge to outsmart
The cunning lies that they have spun
For they know that they have won,
In the silence she will tear herself apart;
Her broken, bleeding heart will fall apart.
YOU ARE READING
Le Cygne
PoesiaThe words of a dying swan. They vary greatly in length and content and I am extremely infrequent but I'm moving at my own pace and trying to get things I find important out of my system. Bear with me and in time I'll bare my soul to you.
