Unkept promises,
Flourish here.
(A field full of broken dreams)
A mournful moon watches,
Warily with a silent stare.
The wind whirls by,
with untold tales.
(The forgotten sound of late night screams)
A somber silhouette stalks the shadows
In the shade of the days gone by.
The keeper of The Box.
Welcome to the barren lands.
Where the sands of time dare not tread,
& The clouds are lined with lead.
Here the figure stands,
To the east.
At the epicentre,
of the wrought ravine.
Which used to run with rapid beauty,
Now ravished from the riles of precursory events.
That ripped through the veins of this once magnificent marvel.
The shape of a slouch of a woman,
skulks solemnly over secrets.
(The keeper of The Box)
She woefully weeps over what was
(What is held within)
She waits for the wonder to release,
wishful thoughts
weave in and out
wanderers circles
squirm subconsciously.
Tranquil,
she waits.
Languorously.
In the barren lands.
(The field of broken dreams)
The keeper keeps her promises.
(To the child that heard the screams)
Outside the safety of the sorrows.
(The layers of the box)
Is a safer place still.
(For the little child lost)
(She waits for him, to help him through the grim)
(He wants to leave, have closure)
Does the child have the will?
Adding your comment:
) [that was a whisper by the way] 
Anyway, when I grow some time, spam my IMs again and perhaps I'll read the next. 
dani
Though I don't know what inspired you to write this, it is a very good piece.
