Broken

The glass jar of hope
                        broken and empty now
                        like my eyes
                        discarded tears
                        from your rain
                        Until my thoughts run
                        dry like a stale whisper
                        given to me upon faith
                        that I would never believe
                        The jagged bloody edges
                        seem smooth and round
                        In my dreams I find
                        my hands in yours
                        not tightened in a fist
                        summoning anger's wrath
                        A tattered book from
                        clenching your trust
                        and pages of love
                        remain locked
                        Will they fill will dust
                        or can the wind bring them back
                        with a single branch
                        covered in a new song
                        that the dove once carried
                        in her mind