My demon lies,
Crumbling mind, speaking incoherently.
Did you make the right choice. A girl
Sees what needs to be, what wants to be.

And yet, we drift. A silent voice that once lulled me to sleep,
Pushes me away,
A violent shove at my center most light.
A distant voice tells me it no longer trusts.

I am an echo. I can not do what has not been done,
My voice no longer works when I do not listen in return.
There is no music to
Listen to. Only the whistling silence of the wind.

The windows block that out. Windows to the soul
Have shutters that block the paintings on the walls
From the outside world.
Never to be seen by human eyes, even the resident.

Lost is the hottest fashion, these days.
Did you hear?
Independence is taken too far, and isolation
Replaces whatever played peaceful music in the past.

Somehow, the soldiers march to nonexistent drums and
No one utters a word, for fear
That they will be executed.

"You, dear, are too cautious. You need to let me in."