her name was hope

she died
in a dream
of colourful words
stroked gently
against a pillow of clouds
all clarity invaded

occupying voices painted smudges
of dark and light
sizzling then frozen
stretched upon a canvas
of withered flesh
and crackled stains of blood

her blue eyes deafened
to the sound of her own voice
when the bombs of reality
destroyed
her handcrafted easel
crashing it
into a river of perpetual war
leaving behind
no wake
no wake
no wake

~cyndy posted by Cyndy | link | | |
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