Poetry

Her Story

written by: Ithilgalad

She's deep as the sand and bittersweet as the sea.
A book bound with ribbon, yellowed pages spill from her eyes.
And starry skies veil the lies
she left behind onstage.
Lilac scents mixed with paint spill down her sides.
The tolls of time
mask her crime
behind her obstinate pride.
And the words start to flow,
the damage to show,
and the fear to grow,
oh woeful blue green eyes.
But there's a crack in the door through which she sees her chance.
A blinding white light pierces through her shadowed room,
through her cob-webbed, dusty soul,
and cascades down the peeling pastey walls.
And she falls to her knees for a
reason
she cannot speak,
and wishes for better days.
For through the vines and fogged glass,
she sees another way.
She's coloring in her pictures of gray,
attempting to shed her paper mache;

So meet her half way.