Glass Girl

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A distant sound grew near,

Bringing absolute fear.

As the rain poured down,

She pulled up her gown.

Voices crazed

And thunder blazed,

Yet she ran,

Yet she span.

Raindrops fell hard,

Like a glass shard,

But she was happy

And she was full.

She twirled like a flower,

With uncontrollable power.

On her hands – 

Bangles of glass,

Above the sands – 

Blades of grass.

The glass clinked

And the weather blinked,

With the grass greener,

And someone growing meaner.

She wrongly sang

And like a doe sprang,

For a moment she wasn’t aware,

Of the worries that did hang.

Water rolled on her face,

Wiping away sorrow’s trace.

Her hair was silkily wet

And joy she couldn’t enough get.

As the water on her body rolled,

The colour of it was too bold.

Translucent on her head,

But at her hip, red.

Down at her feet, brown,

Now unclean, her gown.

As the sun was about to say hello,

She crashed down below.

Glass broke,

Sadness spoke,

Tears croak


Fears awoke.

The cracked glass lay strewn,

As the sun came too soon.

Like the joy in her life,

Or break from her strife,

The rain too was short lived.

The crack bigger grew

With nothing left to sew.

Body sored

Pain soared,

Holes bored,

Death roared.

The glass that broke,

Wasn’t just the bangles,

It was her heart,

Which was in shambles.

Sensitive and sweet,

It underwent a lot of heat.

The glass shook,

As people mistook,

Her heart to be a stone,

And her love stood alone.

As the glass shook,

The girl was scared.

When it bent,

She had tried,

But after it cracked,

She had cried.

The glass chipped,

And she got ripped.

And when it broke,

She died.

The glass was not just her bangles,

But her heart, which was filled

With beautiful art.

The art of her heart,

Was love,

But people over it drove,

Spears and stakes,

Shears and rakes.

The girl died,

And people cried,

But not for her,

But for those replaceable glass bangles

And not for her irreplaceable heart.

Her blood grew a river,

And without a shiver,

The bangles were scraped,

But she wasn’t even draped.

As day turned to night,

Three broken things came into sight.

Her soul,

Her bangles

And the humanity of humans.


Far out of sight,

Like the sun burning bright,

There she was,

With love and unbearable might!

Walking towards her,

Closer and closer,

Near and near,

Lifting her high

From below,

Into the sky

Far above.

She was a star,

Who had come from afar.

A new warmth was felt,

As she was held.

The hands caressed

And her eyes expressed,

Overflowing tears of joy

More beautiful than Helen of Troy.

She was held close,

Though she was a thorny rose.

And out of the haunting blue,

Came something true.

A tender kiss,

In place of a snake’s hiss.

Yet she turned away,

And looked for another way,

To escape the hole,

In her soul.

It was then she peered,

And saw that she wrongly feared.

For those eyes,

Did not entice,

But instead spoke something,

Only she knew to be true.

She was then tugged

And gently hugged.

It was whole,

that beautiful soul.

As the bangles were melted,

And joined with heat.

Her heart which had wilted,

Started to beat.

New bangles were made

And her sorrow began to fade.

As time grew,

She then knew,

That even if few,

Love was askew.

The thing she felt,

Which made her melt,

Was this feeling new

And too good to be true.

She wasn’t staked,

She wasn’t shouted at,

She wasn’t beaten,

She wasn’t mistaken.

This emotion did grasp tight,

And somewhere it felt right.

Like the morning sun’s light,

It was the end of a hard night’s fight.

She then spoke,

And the silence finally broke,

Her heart raced,

while she stood hazed.

Three words were said

And she was brought back from the dead.

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