Stood by the window
in the heart of the glare,
her feet bare
on the cold floor,
with a much colder stare,
there she is.
never out of words
on days it's his breath
taken away,
what else is to expect
from someone right out of
a Shakespearean play,
there she is.
Dressed in blood red
one day she'll wed,
he hangs by a thread,
the clocks may run out
he'll never be done,
every thousandth look
is the same as the first one,
there she is.
Mar 1, 2021
Mar 1, 2021 at 5:03 PM UTC
Stood by the window
in the heart of the glare,
her feet bare
on the cold floor,
with a much colder stare,
there she is.
never out of words
on days it's his breath
taken away,
what else is to expect
from someone right out of
a Shakespearean play,
there she is.
Dressed in blood red
one day she'll wed,
he hangs by a thread,
the clocks may run out
he'll never be done,
every thousandth look
is the same as the first one,
there she is.
