The silence so cold,
her thoughts whisper solemnly.
The faint song of hope,
is sung so unhappily.

Her heart has the love,
but no one to give it to.
Patience enough,
and much time to see it through.

The broken glass,
cuts into the sky so slow.
The thick of the night,
bleeds in through a black window.

Trembling eyes,
that burn a moon like glow.
Porcelain skin,
wants a touch it does not know.

The only light,
she sees so far and full.
Passed edges sharp,
that seem so dark and cruel.

She sits in dust,
with emptiness so near.
She calls to love,
but only her thoughts can hear.

This poem was inspired by, and vaguely written to, the song, "Burn", by The Cure,
featured on the Crow soundtrack.

It was also inspired by a small harlequin doll I have.
It has a cloth bean-bag-type body and a ceramic head.