I peer downward, through the dark blue glass,
shattered, and shards of broken glass. My broken heart.
I find myself in a strange new place.
A sparkling glass castle, with a glorious sunset.
I search for my lost soul.
Warily I step upon the smooth white marble.
Flawless, so it seems. Painted colors mask
the clouds, creating a breathtaking glow,
shrouding the place of perfection.
A rose falls silently from the sky, softly as the snow.
I drink in my minds masterpiece.
My gaze falls upon a lone willow tree,
branches like arms, reaching to me, as
though longing for an embrace.
It stands tall, alone, proud.
I step off the sparkling path, drawn by
the tree’s enchantment.
I sense a change, and the rose falls, dies,
at my feet. The night breaks over
the perfect world.
“Gone,” whispers the darkness. “Gone.”
The stars do not shine. The pillow of
grass beneath my feet turns to knives.
I venture onward, a crimson river trails
behind me. I cannot stop. Rose thorns
have travelled up my arms. Ripping, tearing.
Crimson diamonds add color to the silver
knives. The darkness is no longer quiet.
My name echoes louder, louder, in the wind.
Shadows lurk in every corner.

My eyes are pulled to the castle.
I find my reflection, staring back at me.
Dark eyes, bloody arms and legs,
all of my own design. A single blue
tear falls, to wash away the crimson.
Lightning strikes the mystifying image.
I watch myself shatter.
Turning away, I continue on to the willow
tree, arms no longer welcoming.
I draw nearer, having spotted a figure.
My lost soul.
Eyes wide open, gaze sightlessly ahead. Black hair
blowing around the white and lifeless face.
A single rose tied to its wrist.
My soul sways gently, hung by its
regrets. The rose falls to the palm of my
hand. I run my wrist across its lovely
thorns. I lie beneath the dark willow tree,
crimson roses as my tears.