The pendulum swings;
The scales are tipped.
One wing's broken-
In blood its dipped.
A whisper from the past,
And betrayal is shown.
Here in the present,
Trust is unknown.
As she lays her head to rest,
She hears love's rattled sigh.
The ghost of her future
Echos the word, "Why?"
Lisa Rodenberry
February 28, 1998
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