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Around her neck,

hands disguised as lovely roses,

spread their fingers—

vines with dark black thorns, leaving purple prints

behind.


Her skin,

plain white,

turned cold once more.


Rain,

beloved her friend,

came down in red showers,

hiding her lonesome thoughts away,

in a forest of long forgotten dreams.


Once again,

she's faced with the same task—


continue


-or-


give up.


And so,

another path opens before her

once so bright and happy eyes,

revealing a world painted in shadows.


A hefty man,

the eyes of devil bears;

He grins a smile,

greener than the grass he stepped upon,

as laughter echoes from the lake behind,

a solid invitation for her foggy mind.


A woman,

hunched from daily chores

awaits

senile;

She wonders still about the faith

of a dear lily to her soul.

Compass To My Heart (Wattys2015)Opowieści tętniące życiem. Odkryj je teraz