Her porcelain dress caught in the wind,
pulling away from all that consumes the mangled pieces of a mind once serene.
Did it ever occur to you that she was a million fragments of a hell unseen?
Her angelic voice dulled and dimmed,
her once ruby lips now ashen like dust
and what was once a song of certainty became a chord of a life unjust.
A moment of pureness became an emerging of anguish unlike anything before and who she was vanished as darkness built up its unlikely rapport
A sentence began erstwhile that would concede the fingers dancing upon the baby grand now lying spiritless.
Did it ever occur to you that she was a thousand recollections of deaths solitary witness?
