Her grace had fallen, lost in an ocean of neglect,
Her heart in her hands, even that she would reject.
The world watched in conspiracy as she would bleed,
Her internal library gathering dust in a world that couldn’t read.
For decades she has spilt the ink over her pages,
Trying to unleash the demons from their cages.
Little did she realize, in her cage was where she setup her dinner table,
And it is there, where secretly her demons she would cradle.
The world had this quiet torment to it,
Which was disguised by human wit.
In the eyes of lovers, she would find temporary peace,
Camouflaged love knitted in the sheets’ crease.
“I love you” they would say,
But in her heart, for her, she knew this area was grey.
The world was painted black & white,
Yet the grey area was her internal fight.
Maybe one day the grey would bleed colour,
Only over her & never again, over a lover.