Pity Her

Pity her, the little lost girl Naught but a child, stranded by love Marooned on an island of her own devastation Look at her, how confused she seems, The loneliness staring from her hollow eyes See the silent workings of her mouth, Her lips murmuring words of longing and recrimination Observe, how her gaze searches the horizon, Flitting like a bird, her tear-wet eyes Trapped always in flight, Unable to alight, unable to find the purchase she needs – The figure of her lost love He is dark to her now, nothing but a shadow Receding on the cruel horizon And she is no longer exulted, no longer adored Sunlight shuns her, happiness leaches from her bones Leaving bitterness at the marrow She is dwindling into ashes, fading to black He has forsaken her, as they all do, one day or another He has drained her like a leech, she has nothing left to give Nothing but the stubborn love that clings like an imp, A thousand tiny black pixies swinging from her hair Pinching her in her sleep Goading her into hell fire and damnation Singing odes to suicide, to the quiet hollow peace of Oblivion Where maybe he waits for her, that old smile back on his lips And firelight dancing in his silky black hair…