Well Perhaps Mary will come to me.
Perhaps her skin will melt so close to mine that I will feel her sorrow,
And I will feel the ongoing agony that grips her heart and torments her mind.
Perhaps I will feel the coldness of the shadows that she casts under the burning light that he attempts to enlighten her with,
Perhaps she will whisper the screams of her life and fill me with her surrender.
And I will see through her aged eyes and feel her hollow damp cheeks.
Perhaps I will lay down with her and see her dreams unfold in burning skies and hear her longing voice call out to him,
Perhaps the air will become too thin and through choking sobs she will wait for the moment that never comes.
And I will feel her immortalised blue tears run down run down my face and feel her worn hair on my shoulders.
Then she will be gone.
And just leave the lingering smell of broken beauty as my heart dawns and the silence whispers across my skin.