4 a.m., dead silence, yet too much noise.
On the top of her rooftop, she peacefully stood.
One step forward to heaven or hell,
or one step back into her shell,
one in where she could only scream or yell.
The current of air, against her will,
drove her back,
back where she hated to be,
again on her own, she struggled to set free.
One last time she closed her eyelids,
in a hope for the breeze to support her bid.
Something, somehow wanted her to stay,
as the sun was out in the midst of the grey.
She saw her sun that set away the gloom,
one step back not forward, this time,
one for her to blossom and bloom.