A mad woman

A mad woman is writing nonsense
like bird that forgot how to fly
but is twisting around
smashing into pieces
what it had as a hope.

This mad woman doesn’t care
about what life has for her
she just keeps on waiting
for her turn to be free.

A mad woman is searching
in never-ending fields of joy
the flower
that will never be hers.

This mad woman is reading
what seems to be a poem
praying for the open arms
that she never gave.

And I’m that mad woman
that doesn’t know about north or south
and beyond the mountains
seeks a new end.

Once again.

How do you come back
from disappointment?
how do you frighten away
the phantoms of your fear?
how can you live
after your heart is broken
again, and again, and again?

My freedom has been taken away
my illusions have flown far away
and all I that have left
is this pain and my regret.

And once again I lost my faith
and once again I mourn the days
when love called itself my friend
and once again it fell from grace.

How do you come back
when hell is all you got?