Cinnamon Memories

 

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Raindrops poured their water, surrounding her in its sadness - washing away all her good memories, replacing her soul with sorrow...singing its melancholy song of lost hope and disappearing dreams. She lifted her face to the darkened sky, watching the rain slide down her face, staring into emptyness ...wondering why her life was so desolate and why he'd left her for another.

Buried deep within the corridors of her heart, echoes from a haunting refrain weave their tangled worn threads, playing on her memories like the delicate frayed strings of a lonely violin. Lingering whispers intricately seek the depths to the labyrinth of her soul, creating its delicate, woven tapestry of wild, tangled cinnamon roots and twisted leaves.

Wounds of torn and shattered illusions roar their voices in her mind, like a jungle of ethereal savagery that clipped her silken dreams…leaving her with broken wings unable to fly.

He had betrayed her with his feigned love, leaving her void of the soothing rhythms needed to bathe her wounded flesh. There was a cold, barren emptiness inside her now. Never before had she felt such a pillaged void in the depths of her soul. Only fractured fragments were left of her tattered, broken heart. Her tears fell like foggy, misty rain...on the delicate, shattered glass of her mind-so blistered by love gone astray.

Every fiber of her senses were unraveled and unnerved, as if her skin was on fire - leaving her feeling like a peeled orange...revealing her broken heart and spirit.

The drumbeats of thunder followed her every move -filling her with a sense of doom Suddenly… the whole Earth was filled with echoed songs of her painful past. He didn't care her heart was broken and tattered...leaving her rightened and abandoned in the night.

 

She stood alone...cold shivering and afraid. Weeping and drowning in her tears...her heart wrapped in tragedy, inside a wall of steel.

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           Only the blind can see what the heart feel

        

         by anne p murray