Unable to distinguish between the nightmares of the dark and the brightness of the raging fire burning within, she walks.
All she could do was to traipse in a deserted place holding together pieces from the barren desert of her broken heart.
Will these musical fountains turn out to ber her soothing sprinklers?
A haiku on the same…
nightmare of the dark
desert of her shattered heart
seek soothing sprinklers