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Reflected

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The sad stricken face
Of the girl in the garden
Looks up as the tears of angels fall

As the world around her flourishes
A sky of death creeps in
The tugging whispers tell her to run

Run to where she wonders
Run back to the hell she just escaped
Back to the torture and torment

She wants to stay in the garden of beautiful things
Ignoring the pleas to run
Never to escape the inevitable

With piercing black skies over head
Now drenched in the anger of retaliation
She has happiness in mind
As darkness turns to white





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