Worn out and burnt, the pain radiates from the very place she once sought
solace in. The anger slowly grows, overtaking the happiness that once
resided. An awful heartache, like a thousand knives scattered upon a
tattered floor, it eats away the innocence. World War III begins not in a
field of soldiers, but in the hearts of a broken home. Silent tears flood
the rooms of angels, destroying memories and carr'ing them away. The dreams
and hopes once encouraged and sought after, endure, tied to a withered
string hanging from above; A thread of joy too stubborn to let go. A
sequestered tension fills the air, haunting the words once filled with
smiles. The shelter she placed her faith in, unravels in her heart. A wound
so deep, no blood is left to bleed. Degrading statements aggravate her pain.
The comfort she thrived upon, burned in the very fire she kept for warmth. A
lump forms in her throat as she looks into eyes of pain and sees a soul
weathered and weary. Animosity reflects off walls of peace to pierce the
life within. With no place left to run, she learns to find refuge in the
bitterness; That which consumed the sparkling world she knew. No room for
angels now to fly...wings clipped by Anger's sting. Exhausted and burnt out,
the weary soul lays down to cry. A river of tears sustains the life now held
within. No place to go, no place to hide...her sanctuary, overwhelmed by
suffering...remains the hope she desperately embraces.

 
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