It's strange how creative We become when our hearts Have been broken; Splintered and smashed open, Blood spilling and slowly Becoming ink. Spreading across the page And telling it's story.
Blood falling, Mixing With our tears. So many weeping, So many hurting, So many scared, So many angry, So many taken. No more violence, No more hatred, No more terror, No more stolen, No more dead. Blood falling, People rising, chanting "NO MORE"
She was both terrifying and beautiful, A dream and a nightmare. Music fell from her lips and Magic came from her fingers. When she screamed, The skies shattered and the ocean raged. And when she sang, The sea joined her song and The universe smiled. For she was their daughter and she was a Terrible beauty.
I can't stand the way you Straighten your shoulders and Look down on the world from Your invisable throne. You've spent so much time Looking down your nose that You haven't realized that You have no crown nor castle. There is no kingdom, Nor are there gold or gems. You're living in a fairy tale of your own Creation.