Sound of The Broken

The lyric that flows softly,
fading through the crevice,
into the silent womb
of hopes denied a trellis,

would perhaps never rise again,
for it takes courage to break a word,
the sound of it's crack, resonant,
yet painfully unheard.

How hurt would be the heart,
that can't hear it's own cry,
whisper,or pain,or plea?
an everlasting spell of dry

It hopes to be forgotten soon,
to be resented for all its callousness,
to be held by none, trusted by none,
to be left to wallow in its hollowness.

It wonders if a little light,
may restore the world's purest conception,
and it dreams of spring to color again,
the canvas it soiled beyond redemption.

So here's to hope and fantasy,
and love that refuses to cease,
but flows from a distal source now,
where its safe to be slowly released.

And here's to the soul that remains
the unprecedented image of happiness,
a being who strives to trust
and embrace the world for its ampleness.