Swing of sorrow

At the edge of a cliff, lies a tree so hollow,
Its most fragile branch holds a swing of sorrow.

Each day, this little girl comes playing around,
Climbs the tree and swings with no sound.
The wind blows in her hair as the birds sing,
Her worries are all gone as she plays in her swing.

No more feeling pain, no more shedding tears,
No more running away from her haunting fears.

The sun is shining behind her, illuminating her silhouette,
A white dove and a darkened raven sing a strange duet.
But suddenly, the sky goes dark and everything turns cold,
The branches start breaking; this tree is too old…

The little girl screams with fear, there is no escape,
She tries to get off the swing, but now it’s too late…

This deceiving peaceful place brought the end of her life,
So sad when you think she came here to be away from strife,
Away from her broken home and the never-ending fights,
To forget all the pain, the shame and the sleepless nights…

At the edge of a cliff, lies a tree so hollow,
It’s most fragile branch holds a swing of sorrow…

** I'll put this in my "worst poems" category... it doesn't flow nicely all the time, some might find it a little bit confusing or a little bit more confusing... this is a bad poem, I don't know why I submitted it in the first place... ah, whatever... thanks to those who were patient enough to read it...**