Her Voice

If only hers would be reflection lost,
No mirror would present her face beheld,
In the chance of shame one would crawl,
And the tears held back can only flood,
In the flood was but her mind merely drowned,
Her voice may be broken but never silenced,
For her voice regained shall gravity fool,
Then her feet shall ripple the Earth in wait,
Light however amenable is touched by fear,
How hellish an angel is for clippéd wings,
Though through never is but flight regained,
Who shall suffer not in corner and quiet
Then recovers her feet in higher ground,
Ere breath fall short she’ll seep in tears,
In tears fought are but bruises healed,
Alone is her final religion no god finds,
Little is she who cursed fate this hour waste,
Whether confused or not is her mind’s awry,
Pricks her finger though actions for more,
In solemn hope is her gleeful dread in awe,
Along the road she walks is simply lost,
Like lights would ring through finer eyes,
Sent by them her vehicle in safer drive,
More her ways better than sink and dive,
Returns to home y’comfort for thoughts arise,
Is but long an hour in steady night afoot,
How charred her soul in the blights ye roam,
Who could not for life see herself again,
Whilst by ticking clock her eyes be fooled,
But slow is thought and paced her motions,
Saw herself finally for come sorry notions.