1 Thousand Cuts
Was it love?
Was it real?
Confusion washing over me,
Sadness setting,
Cruelty known,
One thousand cuts remain unshown,
Wilting wildly careless free,
Buried deep where none can see,
Balanced seasons bring better growth,
It matters not my wilting rose,
Storms set in,
No hands in sight,
Wildness flows through lonesome nights,
Hidden deep within these wilds,
Flowers sing my unheard cries.