Crumble

Unlike the rest of the world, She wanted to be a natural disaster. She wanted that long lasting impack against the rocks, As it chipped away into the ocean; Turning into a million different outcomes affecting the surroundings of space that came in contact with this newly developed framework. The picture frame, Set up in flames, Was her morning sunrise; And the screams of disparity, Was her only lullaby. She put an end to the endlessly, Because clocks never mattered when it came to her emotional serenity. Labelled out of touch, And out of reach, From those superfical lips that forced their preach. As those lips never hear the words of others, She stayed close to the rock planning the next natural encounter. The silence, the roar, the rumble from the skies; The eroding rocks and sails pointing up high. All waters calm, Effecting the air to stay quiet, As she laid looking into the night, A million of those outcomes, Spreading to make an impact of violent. As she looked around to see he ugly creation, She realized that she was probably the last of the american girls, With this distructive foundation.