My sadness pours through me, rending, my once-shattered soul,
Sadness, my addiction, the nectar to my broken self,
My wings once beat, with gaiety matched by none,
Far, far above the land of hope and hopelessness,
Those wings, now lie shattered, burnt, by my side,
Testament, to the invincible power of, but none.
That a single entity, could rip through me,
Seemed mollifying, irrational, silly--how wrong was I?
For my heart now beats among thousands of concussed fragments,
Each of them yearning, to be one once more, to worship, a mere puff, of Her.
I bow to the power of Her, the creator of sheer bliss, the preserver of life's illusions, the destroyer, of all that is.