The Death in Her Eyes
All soft-spoken, walks a woman with death in her eyes,
and splaying from her fingertips, are the strings her soul ties.
Every step she takes is stolen from another's feet,
and filled with the blood of shadows' stinging,
where dreams and broken things meet.
The song that stirs the air are notes delivering tears,
and fraying from her ruby lips, are words the choirs cannot hear.
Every breath she takes is stolen from another's lungs,
and filled with the blood of shadows' ringing,
where memories and blood drip and run.
Elegant halls imprison her sighs,
and lies drop like dead flies.
Water washes away the red
but does not erase the death in her eyes.
9.12.2013
YOU ARE READING
RIP
PoetryTwisted. Fearful. Beating. Harmony: Dark imagery of an ex-psychopath written in poetry. Rest in Peace, my little straight jacket. Enjoy the reading, my friends!