His silence spoke in volumes—
solemn tomes in a library of shame,
where broken spines and dragon bones
line her catacombs with pain.
Bitter pain-tings of her past regrets—
picturesque, they rest in smiling frames;
she keeps her demons locked away
in an asylum for the insane.
Scratching at the surface (tension),
nervous, behind her tempered glass;
they convince her that she’s worthless,
as she breathes their toxic gas.
But she’s building her immunity—
inoculated by the Light,
to the noxious importunity
which keeps her wide awake at night.
She finds a hidden sanctuary,
from this sanguinary fight...
amongst a community of fairies,
in the city of the light.