My paper crown has burned.
My wings have been ripped away.
My faerie godmothers are not real,
Neither is the court of Fae.
So while I sit and wait
For a darling prince to come,
I may as well remember
That there isn't going to be one.

you see, my dear
I'm familiar- with
shedding a tear
and so my vision
is blurred, and
to me, the world
is not crystal clear

-Kaya

Don't mistake my smile for happiness
Or my laughter for joy;
Deep down, my soul is
Tearing itself in two.

How strange it is of life
to love with no love in turn
How strange it is of life
that a cold shoulder can burn
How strange it is of life
that you bring a tear to my eye
How strange it is of life
that you let me pass you by

The tears of an angel are emotions not a toy
A broken spirit, crippled wings of a Dove that can not fly
Romance bitter and sweet, but the heart deception can destroy
The Heart and Soul, weep and cry

Others have done their damage, broken again and again each wing
In time, with healing, again you'll fly and soar
You have to hold your head up, let my words to thy heart sing
Then maybe find the want, the desire to try, true emotions at the core

But for now the tears of an angel, solemn tears
In the dark in silence, continue to fall
She punishes her mind , heart and soul with doubts and fears
Wondering if love or a brief romance is even worth it at all

This sights and sounds, to comfort, taunt and torture
You don't know what is right or wrong
Heart and Soul on stormy emotions transfixed, is their a cure
My words, are they so distant and so unfamiliar a Song

Images of what can be, in the dreams dance, in the embrace
Throughout the day and way on into the night, fell the beat
Words a melody to kiss and dance in your heart and soul, a smile to your face
Warm is the embrace, ever so brief, bitter and sweet

'Tis plain to these eyes, such radiant beauty that rose standing alone
Through eyes, dwelling deep within, desperate for tending
Untended that rose yet has blossomed, who would have known?
What grand and greater beauty lays in wait, for a heart that needs mending

Full of promise, what dreams on flights of fancy and fantasy rises
When will that blossom of mystery unfold?
What dreams may come, oh what unfathomable surprises?
Lay hidden, what raw beauty and ecstasy to behold

Even the strongest and coldest of souls without a heart would cry
If you could see into her world, look there through her eyes
You could see the hurt she feels and maybe even know why
Tortured and almost barren the heart scarred by lies

~Wes Noneya