Without words, she sits.
In a chair that faces a window.
Despair closes in.
She is blind.
Her crimson dress shines much darker then the rose's.
her raven like hair darker then black.
Her blind blue eyes brighter then the sky.
Her pink lips softer then a light pink shade.
And her Pale skin as fragile as water.
She sits and listens to the garden below her window.
Frog in the pond 'ribbit'.
Fishes bubbles.
Birds singing.
Butterfly's flapping.
The wind playing.
That's her life.
She couldn't remember a time not like that moment.
Where she sits and listens to nature.
Where she's lost in thought.
Where she feels the warm rays of the sun.
The cold chills of the night.
And that whispering voice from a boy that says, "Me lady, it is time for bed."
That is how she sits and thinks about her blind despair of her beautiful life at that window.
Sta.sh
