THE BROKEN ONE - BY JRQC

Rage, sadness, solace, rapture, depression,

she falls into the pit over and over again,

and from the broken pieces she rebuilds herself... again...in pain?

off the disheartened broken sunset she feeds on the memories of his dwelling,

while a choir of voices is heard, in waves, free of pain.

Rage makes the soul walk in sticks, and softly bandages the heart

and the mind covers it in silk,

to better sense the reality in a soothing way,

where her deceiving soul and passion raise the flag of his heart.

Sadness, oh that ugly bitter one which marks the silhouette of the candle,

and causes havoc in the room of her solitude,

why should it stay with her when solace conforms her deepest desire,

is it not enough to witness her pierced heart bathed in the blood of sunsets and tears?

Rapture seems to have abandoned her with just a broken glass of wine,

have mercy on her, bathed her in petals I say!

yet no-one hears the clamour of her voice, my voice,

there is just solitude in the streets embalmed by yellow light,

yet the hearts of those who walk persist on walking the aimless path,

the ones filled with wrath,

and she is left there,

decaying along her flowers.