Wednesday, 16 April 2014

Decline

What was once, to her, important
Slowly slipped away
Too tired from fighting so hard
She watched as it flew

Empty from arguments long ago fought
Wingless, yet desperate to fly
He stole the one thing that she loved
He turned it to a chore

Soon she had none to rely upon
Nothing left to hold
She had been stripped down to the bone

Of what once had been pure gold