She was broken in every alphabet of broke,
Like how the glass touched the ground
And became shards of something once worthy,
Like how the rain interrupted the melodies of the sun,
Like how my heart ached for yesterday.

She was pained in every rhyme of ache,
Like how the bride never made it down the aisle,
Like how her Mother's child died at birth,
Like how the leaves fell from the tree and left her bare,
Like how she never heard from the lover who went outside to smoke.

But she was beautiful,
In every syllable of beautiful,
Like how the rain made love to the leaves,
as the they fell from the tree
and collectively they made sweet melodies with the ground,
What a beautiful collaboration.

Though wrapped in utter distress,
She remained the most beautiful girl in the horizon,
Like how the sun graced every dawn,
and the moon sang at every dusk.

Though her agony preceded her happiness,
She tirelessly knelt on the corner of her bed at every midnight hour,
Clothed in her full armour of faith,
asking the gods, if not her creator, to remember her once more.