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Miranda Evers Jun 2016
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.
Miranda Evers Jun 2016
Some scars are old,
Some are new,
A borrowed heart,
Feeling blue.
Miranda Evers Jun 2016
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"
Miranda Evers Mar 2016
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.
Miranda Evers Mar 2016
Let's run back to the
Very start,
Let's pretend that we never
Broke each other's hearts.
Miranda Evers Mar 2016
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.

— The End —