Little Glass Sphere

Within my hands is this sphere,
Made of glass,
Made of blood.
It’s hollow,
Nothing inside,
Nothing within.
Within my hands is this sphere,
I feel its cold on my hands,
I hear its pain.
This sphere, so fragile,
So easily shattered.
With caution I lay the sphere in its case,
Locking it away from the world.
I leave it be,
Never letting harm come to it,
Never letting it be broken.
Who holds the key to the case?
I am not sure.
All I know for sure,
Is that within that case
The little sphere, rests.

by NightmareKnightAbsynthe
posted on 01/28/2008