The Writer's Odyssey

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 He and Her

Her heart was a treasure, he stole it
Her heart was a diamond, he broke it
Her pride was a glass, he shattered it
And now, she is not the romantic pink hues of the sunset, but
the grey tint of the sky.

The sudden hollow hole between
Is taking everything inside
Leaving her numb, cold, and quiet
Like the grey tint of the sky
Not the romantic pink hues of sunset
Which now, she thinks, is a lie

His life too used to be a garden full of vibrant ponies.. Now
It lies barren in the broken field of dandelions. 

His life too was like a glistening canvas
Now it's wrapped in a monochrome facade
For being the sunshine for her,
He made himself the dark storm
Tears in her calm eyes,
Summoned a storm in his heart.

and now with everything lying shattered, with
broken threads all over time,
a flower blooms, a flower
of poison, with a hint of love. 

~words flowing in the winds of 'The Writer,s Odyssey'

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