Chaos Poem :
Of all the time, when she sat on the bank,
Indulged in her thoughts, gazing over the rubbles.
She was appetent, yet she did not mean adventure.
She was shattered, even if she was in Wonderland.
She was amused, yet her mind was perplexed.
She let her demons conquer her, still, she had admired every show.
She was at peace, yet every drop of tear could be heard on the shallow ground of melancholy screaming in the abyss of darkness filled with selection.
She found a self in fragments at last.
You can see the sweetness in her chaos. the hearth in her bones. The scars in her flesh. AN angel with the spirit to confront the demons in her. And once the reaper involves raise of her want, her reply is to claw to the highest of the globe someday.
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