Ten points to Gryffindor (or whatever house you're in) for the first person who can guess what/who I was thinking about when I wrote this.
~~~~~~
The rain cloaks her here.
In the grey, serene silence
she hides from demons.
Never-ending storms
an affliction of the mind
replaced light with clouds.
Watching her struggle
is a torment. He
is lost in his guilt.
Girl up on the roof
wishing she could disappear
then he saved her.
Helping the helpless
brings nothing but pain. Why can't
we protect our friends?
YOU ARE READING
Reflections on a Window
PoetryUnedited. Raw poetry from the mind of an aspiring author. When it comes to me, it will find its home here. Types and forms of poems will vary.
