The wind breezed through curtains waving in despair.
A tinkle of bells danced from the devil's lair
ringing with a distressful purpose, chilling the wind
that coursed, while fire tormented a soul within.
The brazen hue of dust preserving memories of bliss
trembled with the soft breeze like a wavering kiss.
These memories - stashes untainted by dust lay open
on the hoary flooring next to a person lying broken.
Locks black as the iris enveloped in gloom,
glide like a fresh spring, watering flowers to bloom,
to give way to orbs shining with the last tears.
She looked up from the curse of seclusion over years.
She glanced as the devil jeered and jingled its bells
denying her the sight that would undo the spells
that scorched her heart; remains only arid waste.
This pain, this torment, is one she fights not to face.
She heaved as the lifeless cage bound tight,
with its spacious windows, boasting plentiful light,
darkened the glimmer that the gust falsely rose;
further withering a lonely withered rose.
Shook laughs in her mind, eerie laughs long dead;
rose flowers from their graves to be torn to shreds.
Not much essence of life remained in her alas
what was left, too wished to bleed away fast.
Yet a tinkle again - hummed a tinkle of hope
as the devil recoiled and the angels eloped.
The dust too vanished; it blew clear off the floor
as a bell tinkled lightly above the chamber door.
The light peering in through the widening crack
shone like blessings of heaven for the little shack
to echo again with laughter. Tears again rose
as her torment; her wait finally came to a close.
The stashes were bound, their contents unnamed.
Their melody was hushed, for new melody was claimed.
The shadows dissolved, wary doubt disappeared.
The devil was banished while the Angels prevailed.
She laughed and she cried as bells jingled around
the angels too smiled at such merry a sound.
The door was wide open; warmth openly spread.
Fresh sprouts bloomed anew from the withered flowerbed.