You see my broken body,
You sense my broken mind.
My hands, they clutch a broken spear;
My blood and tears combined.
The wounds and cuts can be tended,
A scream may become a sigh,
But some things cannot be mended;
My broken wings can't fly.
Do you feel my broken spirit?
Or hear my wailing soul?
But can you fix my broken heart?
I cannot be made whole. -Irina Goodwin