She sits rather still, stitching her loom
shackled and bound to the whispering room
While the walls shutter speeches
she slouches then reaches,
her stitching resumed.

Threads of silk pool in spools
cast to the floor
Hushing the voices
as they pour

the voices repeat their crippling phrase
dancing the space
bound to their maze

Her heart was big
Her love towards him
was enormous
Yet, she cried every night
He didn't care, maybe he did
She filled every room full of joy
Yet, she seemed to lack joy herself
He doesn't love her, Maybe he does
She had a heart of gold
But she cries every night
She is strong, loyal, and caring
Yet he manages to break her down
She is looking for comfort in him
He fails again and again
All she wants is to be loved
take care of her heart
instead he destroys it
Her heart is made of gold
She sits in a dark room
lonely and begins to cry
She wants to die
Her gold heart turns to coal
All you had to do was love me
She lays in a casket with a broken heart.