From Within
There is a lone figure
standing atop a hill gazing all around.
The harsh wind is unforgiving
as it tears at her frail silhoutte.
Her face is worn and heavy,
her breathing labored,
as though she were struggling
in a sea of insecurity.
Her eyes sing of unknown sorrows
buried deep in her soul,
melodies of anguish,
of a long forgotten hope.
She lost this battle long before it ever began,
she no longer has the will to fight
as she is enclosed
in Failure's suffocating hands.
Tears stain her face as burning memories
continually haunt her vision,
voices churn in her head,
reaping seeds sown by a deep rooted deception.
Pulsating sounds,
voices that echo inside her head,
break her down
as they steal her breath...
There,
a lone figure
stands atop a hill,
weeping...
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