She tried to speak, but nothing comes out,
She had finally lost her voice from the screaming,
the cries and the shrieks,
her body a traitorous thing,
hatred burned her veins black,
as she was still able to feel the pain.
The light of reasoning,
forever gone from her sight,
the darkness was her new world,
like slimy, sticky oil that stained her skin.
She now looked like the rest of them,
Her brothers and sisters,
all mindless, all mad, all craving,
something they never had.
Give me something more, a voice carried,
Let me be free and beg for your holy mercy,
vibrating the emptiness again.
Her legs, long since broken, long since burned, moved,
Her eyes, slashes made blind, images made wild, focused,
Hands stained with shame of torture, curled like claws.
The voice, the soul, the creature, the something,
she found, hung low by the neck,
A sorry look upon its face,
her words, whispered, weak,
but venomous, none the less,
stabbed through pitiful hope,
You are a sad suicide, you will never be absolved,
no pity in her, no anger in him,
though tears of blood, still came again.
She layed back down,
to distant rest,
hoped demons wouldn't come back,
to make her a tortured guest.
No relief or comfort,
never there to make less,
of pain she always felt,
and the sorrow she would have to die with.
YOU ARE READING
Enter My Wonderland
Poetry(Every one of these poems has a story behind them, whether if their from my life, or just a story) These poem's that you may or may not read, have no theme. Some hold my thoughts, my views on life, some are purely imagination. So please read away an...
