She stared up at the ceiling, silent tears streaming down her face, unsure of which way to walk. Her feet wouldn't move. Her eyes couldn't close.
The minutes froze. Her body too. Her mind clouded with a million things to say, things to scream. Curses, Prayers, Wishes and wants, but they all faded away. The mist cleared. The fog lifted. Here was too far. Here was too hard. Walk she did. Away from the melancholy. Away from the misery. So sad she wasn't. Not so deep this sorrow. Yet hurt can never be measured. Walk she did.
Into the sunset the butterfly flew,wary of the roses she left behind. For after all, if a thorny rose tore her wing - who would carry her home.
There is no end nor beginning to this silent song of time. Hence, this song plays on.
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