The cold whispers, she feels down her spine.
Magical tunes, a little bit entwined.
She breaks even with her silence and her smile.
Laughter, explodes, but may take awhile.
She touches everyone with her song.
A faceless voice, not so strong.
Calculating the time well spent.
Nobody understands where she went.
Down the pathway of her own demised fate.
Scorned with criticism, a little to late.
Nagging voices, left to strain.
Digging fiercely into ones own brain.
Somewhat left to fill the gaps, of ones dirty little secret once again.
Now scratch the surface of all else's soldier men.
Leave nothing standing against the wall.
All the kings horses, all the kings men, were awaiting for one more gesture, one more fall.
©terrylin53
T