when things were
too cloudy,
too unclear,
she thought
she was hopeless,
that she was
embraced by such
langour,
hate and
anger.

she once
possessed such a
plethora of sorrow,
it caused her
more than tears,
no lesser than
blood.

and blood
became tears
and the sobs
became laughs,
she was now inured.

maybe because,
he came?
who then?
the next mr. Black?
the next apeiroginic love?
how about who?

maybe because,
when things were
at peace,
she heard such
melliflouos melody
coming from the
bluest sky
she always eyed.

maybe because,
when things were
lovely and quite
dainty,
he came,
ringing her bells,
strumming the
sincerest G string.

hi there!