Crimson Music Box Ballerina Broken Elegance AMOLED

The melody stopped, but she never got the message.

A tin heart breaks beneath the gears,
Washing away the golden years.
You wind the box to hear the sound,
But silence is the only thing you found.
She twirls in crimson, cold and deep,
A secret that the shadows keep.

You find yourself staring at the splintered wood, wondering how much longer the spring can hold. She is a prisoner of the velvet lining, doomed to a perpetual dance that no longer has a rhythm. Since you seem to appreciate these broken treasures, I am giving you a link to Mina’s Lullaby so you can see where the other forgotten toys are kept.