Untitled (Beautiful Sorrow)

And there were none
In the background
Only a muse of some sorts
Left to search for masterpieces
Of hidden truths beside her
She had not won fates hand
Whispers through faded shadows
Sweep through the breeze
Pulling at the strands of her hair
Begging the continuance of such lovely sorrow
Her gentle nature screamed for something less
Chapped memories left bitter spitting of
Profanities
until she knew the reason for her loneliness.