Would make me feel like he’s my style

He runs around just like me 

Who would’ve knew that he would reach his fatality 

Of all the stars you promised her,
She wanted just one
The one you wouldn’t give her
Which also happened to be her sun

Your hands seeking her fingers
Entwining them with yours
The unspoken vow that was broken
Didn’t prepare her for the wars
The wars that followed,
she had to fight
All alone, in the stillness of the night
Breaking her resolve with each flight
What a pity, you will never feel contrite.

What did become of her, was even more splendid
She came out of the ashes of her burnt dreams
Undaunted and mended
You couldn’t break her, could you?
She turned into gold in lieu

Barefoot she was, with nerves of steel
Teetering through the ghoulish night
Mind went in an interlude, a nightingale warbled songs of her plight
She yearned for the tumultuous journey to end, What she despised most, was not knowing what lay around the bend.

Barefoot, she struggled with the twigs churning underneath her weight
Blisters, she could feel, a hopeless tear trickles down to abate
“Is it this painful for the rest?”, her irrational mind mused.
The inner voice whispered,” Indeed, it is. Nobody is not ever bemused.”

She gives her dog a shake,
And sobs until the tears make.
The only other sound's the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.

The dog is scary, quiet and deep,
But she has promises to keep,
Until then she shall not sleep.
She lies in her bed with vessels that shed tears.

She rises from her bitter bed,
With thoughts of sadness in her head,
She admires being dead.
Facing the day with never ending fear.