Waiting For A Train

In the misty halo of the evening lamplight,
As the storm clouds roar to the lightning dart,
Chronicled on the end of a fairytale romance,
She awaited the express train for broken hearts.

Born of a love adorned in secrecy,
While vanity's showcase played it's encore,
Amid the triumphant admiration of celebrity,
Her love stayed hidden behind closed doors.

Imprisoned in the solitude of her barbed wire cage,
Perched on the edge of the river of lost souls,
Serenaded by a dismembered violin concerto,
Hauntingly embellished within a black Gothic rose.

She felt concealed from her own existence,
Lost in the realm of a mythological hero,
With the walk on part of the distressed maiden,
Encumbered and burdened within his shadow.

Fleeing the chains of a love gone cold,
Through the dreamlike fog of the dragon's breath,
She left the myth of her thespian warrior,
To enact his heroic demise on the stage.

With a heart sunk deeper than any ocean,
And a soul disfigured by a thousand scars,
She carried her grief towards the railway station,
Purchased on a one way ticket to nowhere.

She ponders her abundant recollections,
Of a love gone bad, washed away with the rain,
Caught up in the timewarp of happier memories,
She stands on the platform waiting on a train.