Lonely

July gave into august and august into September
The sky was still as smooth and as grey as concrete
There in the dark with the glow of the city
A woman searched the precepts of her heart
As loud as a felt hammer on a timpani skin it beat
Creating the only sound in the otherwise silent room
She thought about love and its harshness
And willed herself to finally be free from the pain of the heart
That came together like many different winds joining forces spinning into a tornado
Her motives had always been pure
But fate had always dealt her a rough hand
Turning her into a perpetual adolescent searching for love
Still, she had always believed in galaxies of tiny planets and moons
And a love so honest and true
Now, as September gave into October
She wished real love found her soon
But with her heart still as thin as human hair and her bed as lonely as July
She turned her back to the city and with tears in her eyes and she shut the world out

-Ayamba

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