Sad, fragile thing is she.
Her life breaking, still she breathes.
Frail heart,
Words and babble it'd fall apart.
Evident scars through those sleeves
only I can see.
Gather, everyone is ready.
The gold dust she'll leave behind.
Her body gasping to be steady.
Dull orbs,b
no longer a beautiful storm.
Tempting to just finish her off,
The whispers and their scoffs.
I played their game, meddled with the tricks they conceived.
My body could only heave .
The gold dust gushed out my chest.
Till they found me ...
Dead.
Not sure if I like this one, but Next week I will resume to consistent poem writing 💁🏽~Cinderelly