Porcelain Doll Poem by Lilith Van'Nightinveil

In a chamber of delicate dreams,
Lies the figure of a porcelain soul,
Fragile beauty in moonlight streams,
A portrait tranquil, standing whole.

But within its ivory veneer,
A heart weeps silently, unknown,
A story fragile, held in fear,
Of a porcelain doll turning to stone.

With porcelain face and fragile curves,
A semblance of grace on a delicate frame,
Bound by society's rigid nerves,
Awaiting permission to dance in the rain.

Yet the world can be unkind and cold,
Like a ruthless hammer upon this shell,
A porcelain doll destined to fold,
Broken, shattered in a sad farewell.

In fragile moments of silent despair,
Cracks appear, like spider's silk entwined,
Emotions filtering through, stripped bare,
Eyes watering with tears left behind.

Fingers trembling, caressing the fractures,
Pain seeping through the porcelain shrine,
Revealing the truth that lingers and captures,
The essence of a doll that yearns to be thine.

For what is a porcelain doll, but a vessel,
Holding dreams and hopes within its core,
Fearful of the world's constant wrestle,
Yet longing for freedom and love evermore.

So let us not dismiss these delicate dreams,
But cherish the fragile and embrace the scars,
For the cracks bring light in beautiful streams,
Guiding the path towards healing stars.

In the breaking of a porcelain doll,
A soul awakens, birthed anew,
From the fragments, rises after the fall,
A stronger spirit, bold and true.

Let us celebrate the broken, for they know,
That strength can emerge from places unknown,
With every crack and every shattered blow,
A porcelain doll transforms and finds its own.