through the dark haze of winter skies
a lonesome indistinct lark sings
for her agony, and for all the cries
of a lament reserved for all but joyous things.

slowly she flies away leaving behind
more radiance than when the clouds parted,
to reveal the dark recesses of her mind
and crush her dreams worthy to be martyred.

the wiser spirit of the trees do say,
that her seclusion confines what she knows.
yet their smile frowns when she goes away
for her doubts are only where the daylight goes.

beneath her beauty, blanched with pain
she is the essence of vainful despair.
a truncated wing she nurses in vain
as upward to the sky she stares.

when hate's deceitful lips fall apart
a jaded melody sings where silence once stood,
for the winds that awaken the stars
blow passionately through her flaming blood.

she dreams her thoughts of loneliness
and swept in a sigh of sweet sorrow,
drains her heart of all emptiness
for this shut eye will never see tomorrow.