Logic

It's never been colder than this
she looks outside
the rain only touches her feet
the wind freezes her teary eyes.

'The magic of death,' she says
'is its power over reason,
and the few that are blessed
use its door to freedom.'

You reap what you sow
so birth reaps the inevitable
journey to the world below
or above- those that are able.

Her spirit remains unconquered,
she ignores the sadness far away
she looks up to a void and ponders
the sky is more black than grey.

This heavy rain never stops
she knows she is a cloudy sky
her tears are bloody raindrops
falling from a wounded soul and mind.

'The logic of life is purpose
the reason for death is life.'
Her reasoning is worthless
grief of lost love is a blinding 'light'.