The recurrence
Of a lost and faded reality
Flourishes within the pages
Of a book, unseen by many eyes....

A Constance
Continuing within my very soul
Reaches at last for destined happiness
That never existed, in any form of bliss....

A disappearance
A child that was barely known
Only lost, though loved deeply
She ignored her fate, ending her possibility....

A shadow
Lurking behind the stairs
Silhouetting the frame of the door
Holding the heart, the heart he tore....

This grim and shallow image
Of a once known world
Seems to drift away from any recognition
As the play continues in a horrid dance.
Maybe all will end within a strife
That could destroy the hate within the soul;
Or maybe these actions will never occur
If all were to fall one last time.
 
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