She walks on
She walks alone
Treading the razor's edge
Cutting too close.
Like a piece of paper
Clutched too tight
And then set adrift
Hollow emptiness.
She sways along
The tides of the
Cold winds that blow
From nowhere to nowhere.
Withering, withering
Feeling the fingers of the breeze
Pick and pinch and pull
Bits of her soul away.
With eyes glazed
That shy away
From every unkind
Gaze of pity.
She swayed
Then swung
Then swum
Then flew
Along the tides
Of winds that once
Wore away a soul
And gifted her wings.
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