Death tones of lilacs and tulips fulfill the corset placed with such care
As tipsy fingers caress each lace filled harmony screeching to be heard
Dawn creeps on mocking birds as a resistance clears all thoughts of rebellion

And the lace is laid still
And the lilacs and tulips drop dead
While the songs of a said sailor fade into the west side as the sun rises in the east

Trembling legs halt in the bitter notion that fate has taken over
Bearing gifts from God
Bearing the mere thought of reality

Strategic methods of revenge loom in the dirty, congestive air suffocate years of remembrance
Months of planning
Decades of the unknown

Calling forth a new destiny
With a bittersweet smell of a child
Collecting moments and radical thoughts to mend what has been done

To fix any broke remedies that have been demolished in what critics call lethargic behavior
Sensations of fatal attraction calling “SCENCE” on the last play back
A new plot
New characters
New emotion
Incessantly grabbing towards lost time and heartache

Revenge
A bittersweet remedy to a lonely actress- of whom is on her last roll call
Can you hear her wails of desperation?
Her wails of negligence?

The lullaby she silently sang in hushed tones night after night to keep her sanity
To keep her ability of wrong and right
That slowly faded to a hum – only heard by ones open and ready to take the world head on
Which by chance she was not

She was a molecule in one grand design
A bearer of many unspoken gifts- that at once upon a time were concealed
And that now are a slight murmur the wind you feel on beautiful spring days