Her heart races at the thought
Of what she intends;
Sorrow awaits...for a soul
That never mends.
To be precise...
She never saw it coming,
While days went by
With pain un-numbing.
Equal to a bloody war,
Gone is what she's fighting for.
No dream nor spell can bring it back,
Considering the faith they lack.
The straightening of winding roads--
They have a better chance,
Than do either of them
To learn this dance.
Spattered chaos soon bestows,
The loss in what she sows.
Meaningless her efforts are,
For every battle fought thus far.
Defeat was never in her plan,
But in her fear of loss she ran.
Fatal blows, they brought her down,
Now loneliness shall wear her crown.
