The Flight Of A Nightingale

Her beauty was like that of a nightingale
Sweet songs spilled from her soul
Only after sunset and the moon shone pale

She awoke the night, the dead and even hearts made of coal
Began to burn with vibrant life once her lovely voice was heard
She sung of truth, beauty and love; all of which he stole

Her heart beaten and battered, a flightless bird
With stitched and patched wings, her perfect lashes drenched with tears
For years, fallacies flooded her mind and pierced her ears. He lured

Her in, raping her of her enchanting melodies; he smears
His filthy infections inside and upon her flawless white skin
Blood now pours from her aching heart, submerging her soul with fears

Truth and beauty is what she believed in
For there was nothing more mesmerizingly captivating—

Though she believes in truth and beauty
Her beliefs, now aren't so bright
Searching for the absolute truth is her duty

The man of her dreams obscured her sight
With the unthinkable, unforgivable tendencies he shown
Trying so desperately to move ahead with all her might

How could she make herself believe, to remake the all too familiar mold
She sat for hours with nothing but her fears, tears and the moon
Wanting the only most ideal love to hold

Oh, but the reddest rose would cure her of this dreadful disease
Of disbelief, malevolence, and her dying spirit—once so alive
She is like a caged bird, but without the freedom of her song—it has ceased

She drags her limp and tattered body, reaching for what she strives
Stumbling upon a blossomless stem of thorns
With withered, black, and crippled petals—Love deprived,

Just like her frail heart that she now pierces with the sharp edge of a knife—Hope is torn
The lifeless rose falls from her grasp as she gasps for the last bit of her life
She whispers her last song, “I died for Beauty—but was scarce…”
As the crimson cascades from her chest and embraces the rose, now born

The rotten stem and leaves become a deep forest green, while the dried petals breathe in
The blood of her heart filled with what mattered most, the scarlet color of Love, Beauty and Truth—

Now she believed with all of her heart
Through all the dead roses and broken lights
The light closing in on her isn't so dark

Soaring mountains that touch moons, climbing to wondrous heights
Climbing forever forward, smiling and laughing with incentive
Singing courageous lyrics, filling the cool air, " its going to be alright, everything will be alright."

Feelings of being alone and lost, left her completely-Abandoned
By herself with her strengths, happiness and renewal of might
Stripped away of two faced angry faces, nothing left-Pretended

From this very moment in time
Reaching the end of her climb strenuous
Soul searching for the hand that will fit right

Breaking away, tearing away at all ominous
Striding on stepping stones to all wonderful and dangerous