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At least he listened With a sad sparkle, she watches her tiring life being laid down. She casts her eyes away - ashamed as there in his voice, her own tale one can read. Fixated by this overwhelming surprise, thinking what would next surface; Wondering if they know she's the subject, numerously adorned as an object; Mouth partialy open, from being grilled in this oven; With a dry throat, she's battling to keep afloat; She tries to speak out, to justify her fate; But her words are just a murmur, sending down her spine a cold tremor. Like her life: unheard,unseen, unanswered,unnoticed, unappreciated, Nothing. Of his ability, she heard before; to tell your soul while he gazed into its windows. With his haunting tune to send one back to worlds better forgotten,roads not taken- out of mind,left behind; or so it seemed,maybe as she aimed. He saw her. She told him,though no word was spoken. Silence, only by the sweet song broken. Hoping and praying that this torture would end, she looked away pleading; but his torturous melody had tuned everyone into her secret memories: too intense to speak of, no pretence she swears; too deep to heal,every dagger she feels; too dark for light,beyond her weak might; TOO BLOODY MUCH FOR ONE! To end it all would be just fine. Besides,it's time. At least he listened. Copyright © Mar 2005, All rights reserved