She is the last of her
Frailty, that shadow
Of girl interrupted,
The whole of her burned
Like a great scar on a heart
She once knew.
The anamolous woman
In another world,
A woman used and left behind,
Though one cannot recognise
Her face, through her
Demeanor she tells of another life.
And she declared war
With a ravenous intention
On building great walls,
Insurmountable
And with no doors
She leaves but a window
For him to find
And glimpse what she guards.
He will fall for her
And break like water against
The rock,
The jagged rock never smoothened
And the walls will shake
At the oscillating moment,
She will see a silhouette of frail
And timid creature,
She will sedate the emotion
And the walls will grow taller,
The embodiment of independence
In a story lost to the pain,
She will walk the earth
In a stir of echoes past,
The walls shimmering dark glow,
And the woman scorned does roam.
