She blows the soft smoke gently away sitting on her windowsill, the third floor the darkened horizon melts drowsily leaving its mysteries to her own heart as it is not full enough of the madness
She rises slowly with the sweet smoke turning her head towards the mirk sky what is there to see, in her own world closing the eyes to travel infinitely far as the honey is melting in the tepid tea
She throws her glass of wine away she smiles and cries as nobody sees the darkness, deep and cruel but sweet as is her heart, dark, but yet so soft and kind painful and hateful, yet so loving and forgiving mad and crazy but so deeply understanding
Why only the crescent comprehends only the stars listen to the quiet melody the songs of love and pure wistfulness she knows everything but is scared of living as the world is not kind, instead, it is cruel the fear, the unknown, the failure of life itself
She puts her finger in the darkened wine and draws a line on the wall with blood enjoying the sadness and loving to hate She likes to be alone, alone, sweet world You, always alone in your deeds and thought
She sees from far, a distant closeness engulfs only art saves the heart, only beauty consoles the crescent starts to fade slowly and softly many of the clouds swim towards their path covering the moon and leaving her lying
Withering away as in the mind of destruction where everything can make a nest within itself she lies there motionlessly, silently, calmly listening to every sound her heart whispers to her as the music starts to play in her head of frenzy
She lived once but not anymore, as all fades where does this crippling melancholy lead to the stars never wrote a script for the existence but they gave the mind a code to decipherer as they gave the heart a wisdom to learn from
She pours the sweet Bordeaux in front of her gulping in sips, turning her head, staring ahead all is sweet, all is beauty, all is art if only you see shadow the pain and leave it intact for the truth as the time flows between her fingers to eternity