Her eyes glaze over in a dream of dreams
Surrounded by fantasies whose worth she deems
In lust and longing, love should find a place
None, sinking in the depths of this disgrace

A drawn out pause, she waits with bated breath
Till her bones are old and hope holds nothing left
How long till fate weaves out its twisted path
Allowing freedom from a drowsy-eyed impasse

Blood wells thick with pain's impending doom
Suffocating darkness where torture's flowers bloom
In deepest shadows mute with unspent agony
Faint, the beats of a heart that bleeds

Mind ever on the matters not at hand
Sifting through pleasantries like grains of sand
Comedy the mask worn as these transpire
Carefully concealing tragedy's ire

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Glacian, in the year 632 AF.