A deep dark ocean swallowed
her dreams, a black rose with
thorns pinched again and
again the edge of her wounds.
And vivid cuts adorned her like
a perfect crying frame, decorating
her heart with only suffering sights.
Shadows of dark clouds follow
constantly by the mist in her eyes.
Path conceal with her own grief,
and not knowing where the roaming
spirits guide her, or where the star's
point out a path taking her through.
She stumble, she mourns, and she
drops her fighting sword to the
ground. She surrender's to the damage
of pain and woe, her eyelids bleed
and exhaust her, tears are dry, not
much to pour, they can't even blink
anymore. Deal with despair- no
longer aware of many more days
to compare.
Elenushka Toledo
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thorns-7/
