Unberable Beauty In Black
She wanders through the corridors, each and everyday
carrying a single rose, for the love that's gone away
her face is muffled by a veil, that only she can hide
and her secrets all concealed, nothing to confide.
Her perfume is masked with guilt, what must she confess
of course he must have loved her, or at least loved "her" the best
She sits beside the window, the curtains tightly closed
and mumbles beneath her breath, and clinches tight the rose.
She stands to see the painting, perfect on the wall
the only man she ever loved, who never loved at all
She jerked it from its rigid hook, and turned to walk away
shards of glass and memories, to lay there on display.
She cries her self to sleep at night, and walks the halls by day
for in her heart is the part, that will never go away
bittersweet is the love song, that soured with the time
to pop the cork on love unsworn, must have felt divine.
She often curses his name, and what she had to do
why did he, think that she, would never get the clue
So now as she sits cursed, there is no turning back
only to be known, as the unbearable beauty in black.
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