Silently she sneaked in and wore his glasses.
The mirror told her why hatred was his return to her love.
She was whom World called an Artist.
He had told her of colors.
Never knew none the portraits resembled an unseen face.
Neither could he feel her heart.
I fear. I fear. I fear.
The present tensed.
Vultures of morrow and demons of past.
Tale of a doomed life.
Mother bird flew to heights infinite.
Then nest, now a house.
SHE loved silence. HE a connoisseur of sounds.
A knot and eloquent music was born.