In pieces of glass, her heart was painted
With the blade as the brush and blood as the paint
Love for things around her was now tainted
Hope ran off in the distance, small and faint

Like a string being held at will with scissors
She cowered in the shadows, invisible
Iced rain was her hope beginning to shiver
Climbing high and falling from the inevitable

God was her last resort
But even he didn’t seem to listen
Though he didn’t expect her life to be pained and short
The anger in his veins coursed, the tension stiffened

Her soul was dearly missed by many
Though her existing aura remained unbelieving
The heartbreak she caused her friends and family
Rest in peace Alondra, we’re still grieving...