On marbled floor

Solitude amongst crowded rooms.
Weariness amidst the boast of energy.
Lacking strength to pull away.
Away from these morbid thoughts.

Drawn so deep inside.
Depression lined with blankness.
Out of sight, out of world.
Lying cold still on marbled floor.

Withered on the freezing ground.
A summer flower met with the harshness of winter.
So bent over.
All life seemingly vanished from within.

To be found such as this.
The loud horror filled shrills.
Echoing off marbled walls.
Would be heard throughout.

Yet there is no sound.
Only the echoing of eerie silence.
Too far gone to notice.
Salted water pooling beneath.

Lines etched down the face of this still figure.
Pain laced underneath strained muscles.
It comes from within.
That none other then words can writhe.

To gaze upon with eyes such as these.
Empathy beyond all words.
For what good comes from hence.
These fiery hell bent darts.

They are exact.
Straight and true.
Never once missing.
Causing anguish every time.

Cold still on marbled floor.
Eyes fixed in place.
Ears having drowned out.
The chaos that surrounds.

Copyright 2009 Lauren Hall ©