Zoi's Window

Past the footprints on the muddy track If you walk through the grazing grass, Find you will a knife stained and black With old blood from a young lass. Follow the drops and you shall see Flattened grass where the dull spots end, A young lass with tears running free To form a river just 'round the bend. Born from a puddle of red despair, Flowing through a barren way To the sea and from there the air, Resting in the gathering clouds of the ending day. All the lass had ever needed was a shoulder; Now her own tears rain down to wash away sorrow, For no kind voice ever told her Of the light that shone in the morrow. Her tears stay to water the tired, Her blood forever staining the silent ground; The Earth shall rise to claim the wired, Only then will start the sound Of what made the lass the knife to yield? However did she drown in despair? Why did she keep her secrets sealed As she sought to destroy all beyond repair? Perhaps she'll hear from the starry sky The apologies and condol...