Scrabbled_scribbles_

Walking a blue path, silent No one in sight No left or right Just yellow light Birds whisper softly in air Who is she? Where does she dare? Flowers blooming, Her face - all gloomy  Her presence falls, a deep shadow Ruining the serene path she swallowed The trees that cast their dappled shade, Recoil their limbs; all kindness swayed. They don’t want their shade to touch her grim face Don’t want their grace to grow faint.  She walks in all silence No birds chirping by the voilets.  No breaths,  No whispers, Just her lies and her blisters.  Her presence damps  All those she glanced at. Her face, a cloud beneath the sun, Like every joy has come undone But one who wounds her more than this More than the tree who called her an abyss More than the floral dismiss  Is the voice that pricks her It whispers softly, sharp as glass: "You're nothing. This won’t pass." "You're a failure, a dead spark." "Unseen, unheard, always crying in the dark." Birds weren’t w...