Masked glance, iced slaps...
Soul's music turned off by a thunderstorm...

She used to rock the world with such bliss...
But why, if no one seems to appreciate it for real?

She looks up to the sky and realises...
This world was never meant for her harp.

No one gets the shapes that her mind draws up in the clouds...
No one, not even them!

Betrayed by the rain of sharp broken mirrors...
she lost her wings and stopped flying high.

She finally learned...

It's not wise to smile with the heart...
at least not in this world!
Teeth only grow up twice and...
dancing flames will always get lost in the sea...

Cruel reality, bleeding heart.

© Christina Philipe