Rosemary got her heart stung in a thorn,
But the pretty one left her for a dandelion.
Now she walked with a cold cave inside her heart,
Her life's bits and pieces all fell apart.
How would she ever be able to get home?
How would she tell her father, where's this emptiness from?
She tried so hard to glue herself together
With colors and honors, with caresses of others,
But like the air, nothing she retained,
Everything just flowing through her
Not the smallest pebble remained.
No room with golden locks could keep her inside,
No spell with broken mirrors could cast this void aside.
In the chorus of the waking hours,
One blue night she sang along,
Her voice turned and danced like the fire
The hearts' cave filled up with song –
She can embrace her hollowed heart nowFor being perfect in its resonance.