SkyFall

Roses grew around the gun , as if to keep that thing away from the world ; to keep the sins inside of it locked there.

The smell of burnt powder was still there , it hadn’t changed a bit ; it’s smell too strong to leave.

The footsteps that decorated the house were marked there , never leaving.

The broken furniture were thrown apart ; completely destructing what was left safe.

The metallic smell was still in the cellar , but she was too sick to go there.

It had hurt to feel anymore , too smile Or too laugh.

So she stayed silent ; letting the wrongs in the world eat the innocence that was left in her broken soul.

Her eyes were no longer alive ; they were dull and dead , they held no hope in them.

Or that’s what people thought.

She hoped too much , they said , that she never believed that there was something like death.

She believed that when someone “died “ , They just went to a more pleasant place.

The windows were cracked , paintings thrown at the ground with faces removed.

The floor shook at every step she took , threatening to shatter and vanish into dust.

The doors were locked with keys ; hiding what’s behind them.

The carpets were covered in something unknown , she didn’t want to know what.

The trees swung outside ; creating mysterious lullabies.

And she sang with them.