It stands alone, feels the weight of oneness
which moans a cry of empty silence
much like the scream of the butterfly
What is this that I should feel its pain?
crossing the River Sadness,
as blood laps gently at my ankles
I stand amid the tears that slowly fall.
It weeps alone, feels the pain of isolation
I'm drowning in the ocean of your eyes
which shatter like ice to shards of jagged glass,
scattered like leaves in the rain.
What is this life, leaping from a ledge,
her hair done up in lillies
as legs madly pump to reach the surface
before my mind gets the chance to conspire against my heart.
It walks alone, unsheltered from the pelting hail
that scars your face as you lose yourself
in a storm of self pity,
sinking indefinitely into the desolate voids of eternity.
It walks alone as I follow close behind.