Sparkatale

It was in the news,
The limelight
Of daily conversation.
For everyone
Enjoys a hearty dose
Of other's devastation.

Staring blankly at the wall
Created in defense,
Neither have emotion.
It's been this way ever since.

The air is cold within
The little trap.
It's where they stay
Since they both snapped.

The grass is brown,
The flowers dead
Nothing is produced
From the tears shed.

Finally one day,
The voices made them cave.
The trap was broken into bits
To lay them in their grave.

The sea of flowers
Is sweet but sad
People say nothing
Of the time they both had.

The bells have tolled.
The people gone.
But they are dead
From things gone wrong.

This is how it seems to be
This double suicide.
Created from the simple fact
There was nowhere for them to hide.