In melancholy of my heart,
Lies an old swing,
Creaking across the empty halls.
A girl with a book was dazing at the walls.

Hoping here and there,
She stumbled upon a forsaken lakeside shore.
Black waters flowed with a mysterious mayhem,
She dipped her hand in curiosity,
Oh boy, the curiosity almost killed the cat!

Her hand, like a sinner, was black,
Creeping darkness over her skin.
In fear, she rushed to her swing, in vain,
The swing lay lifeless, devoid of grace,
She shook the swing with all her might,
But it was still.

Fear grew louder and the stain ran deeper,
The black shade crept deeper like poison.
She wept and slept, hopelessly,
And one day she ran out.

She ran through the dense forest,
Wandering for the light of people,
But no breath was caught in darkness.

In madness, she still ran with her eyes shut,
The book, she held dearly was lost,
The swing, she lived for was silent,
The world, she loved was dark.
The hope, she hoped was missing.

Then a storm stirred in the winds so wild,
Where her eyes caught sight of an old house with wines decorated.
She ran to the house against the scolding rain, where she found the flowers bustling.
A cure of flowers was blooming out there.

She touched the flowers with her black hands,
The flowers shed pearl tears on her hand,
The stain on her hands began to wane,
The crying river washed away her sins,
Her smile was singing across her soul,
She kissed the flowers with serenity.

In the garden of those blooming flowers,
She found a new beginning, new hours.
Each petal whispered secrets of the earth,
And in their fragrance, she found her worth.

The old swing now swayed with life anew,
Underneath a sky so clear and blue.
With every gentle push, it sang a song,
Of resilience and strength to carry along.

She read her book by the lakeside shore,
No longer afraid, as she was before.
The waters, once black, now mirrored the sky,
Reflecting her newfound spirit, oh, so high.

In the warmth of the sun's tender embrace,
She traced the lines of a smiling face.
No longer lost in the endless gray.
Her heart, once heavy with sorrow and pain,
Now danced with joy like a gentle rain.

Through the forest, she wandered with glee,
Discovering the beauty of each tree.
And in the quiet moments of solitude,
She found an absolute peace.

In my melancholy of my heart,
She was the metaphor, a journey's embrace.

Halsey