She painted her walls the color of the world,
To her everything was black and white.
And in that colourless world she sat alone,
In the midst of a chaos of everything she knew.
A misconstrued tragedy of the life she lived,
In deep waters she tend to lose herself.
In her sleep she made her nightly escapades,
To a world ghastly different to what she lead.
Silence was the best part,
A sense of serenity felt only in its wake.
Shadows as dark as the night
Loomed behind, leaving despondent trails.
Her name, she left to fly with the wind and herself,
A non existential reality, a burnt page off a book.
Chasing the day, donning a cloak of invisibility,
She was what she wanted, without judgment or prying eyes.