Silent Ash

In the dreary wandering of the cobbled streets,
A frozen wasteland wends its way in,
Bitterly dry and viciously cold;
The sky but a darkened ash from the
Arson of wooden love.

She stiffly collapses against the filthy alley,
The painful ghosts of memories
Traumatizing to her delicate frame of mind.
Yet one face in the gloom is all she sees:
The ravened locks and silken eyes;
The sharp pale nose and hollowed cheeks;
A voice imposing, but lustful still,
An echo in her thoughts:

Lie down your sleeping head.

And silently with dark repose,
She weeps searing tears,
Her resolve crumbling under
The torments of a hellish soul.
Leaning ‘gainst a weakening foundation
As mortal failings strike her icy heart,
Abandoned by will and burdened with sorrow;
The vile emptiness seeps in to consume.