Her broken chord
Her song rung out like a broken chord
Her voice now lingers, left, Ignored
Her willow weeps amidst the storm
Her arms grew tired, weak and sore
But her song rings on at last she's free
No longer weeps... The willow tree
The sky now breathes a stagnate breeze
Until she falls, upon on her knees
The sky now greets her silent pleads
Then drifts away, and returns her peace
Her song still sings... a broken chord
But at least she's no longer, left Ignored
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