She felt like life was death,
she felt inside the break.
The warm and thick dark blood
that rushed right from her heart.
And she only wanted to sleep
for she had been unfairly struck.

The last couple months had struck
leaving her in the limbo of life and death
and even though she tried to all day sleep,
her mind could still not tolerate the break.
And she was trying to glue back her heart
yet fearing there was no sufficient blood.

With eyes that burned as red as blood
she cried over the unsuspected struck.
Her lullaby was the pounding of her heart,
her dreams the ghosts that had come back from death.
And with no hope she let her soft voice break
as she said words that’d make her go to sleep.

She did not want to give up on her sleep,
it was the thing replacing her lost blood,
but all she’d hear was shattered glass just break:
what her soul felt after it had been struck.
Suddenly, nothing looked as tempting as death,
and this idea crawled into her heart.

A million and one pieces made up her heart
and she counted them in hope to fall to sleep.
For this was the thing closest to death
and thinking of him, she watched the oozing blood
that constantly reminded her that fate had struck
and that her fairytale illusion was to break.

And one too many times she felt the break
since it had been now living in her heart
and looking at the night, she was strangely moonstruck,
and she no longer felt she needed sleep.
The only answer left for her was blood
as it had always led life straight to death.

Because after all, nothing had struck her like his death
that stabbed her heart deep down, to let out blood,
and she surrendered to the break, and turned to eternal sleep.