"When the lamp is shattered
The light in the dust lies dead
When the cloud is scattered
The rainbow's glory is shed.
When the lute is broken,
Sweet tones are remembered not.
When the lips have spoken,
Loved accents are soon forgot."
~Percy Bysshe S...
"Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought."
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To the one from the star,
Being bruised and battered like a soiled rag - wrung and twisted into a knot of piled up emotions wasn't unknown to me. I knew my dad didn't love me. I knew my mom couldn't care less about it. But I also knew that I was used to it. I never protested, never tried to defend myself when my dad...when he...
So why did it hurt so much that day? Why did the broken rib inside my chest manage to pierce a hole through my beating heart?
That day wasn't supposed to be any different, really. Mom was gone. Dad was drunk and in seventh heaven -- or perhaps seventh hell. And I'd just returned from school only to be welcomed by the suffocating smell of cigarettes. Dad was angry for no reason at all. And he...well he did what he always did.
And I didn't mind it much. Until the pain really started bothering me.
Was it because I actually expected a miracle to happen? How naive of me to think a star could chase away my nightmares...
They say ignorance is a bliss. But I call hope a bastard child of impossible imaginations and rough pasts that tempts you with treats of unattainable 'bliss'. It haunts you, but never cures you.
Was it too much to ask for...peace? Happiness?
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A/N
So here's the second entry. Hopeyou guys liked it! Let me know your thoughts. ❤ As usual, next update will be coming soon!
