She remained in captivity and felt
The i n s a n i t y that began to make a start.
White walls eveloped her - confining her to a blank world.
Sometimes she would stare so intensly at the walls
That she would imagine velvet blood seeping through the paint...
drip
drop
drip
drop
Her quench and desire for freedom was the only reason she held on...
But her thrist was irrevocable, unsatisfiable...even to this day.
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Domesticated Angel
PoetryA heart touching tale about a girl with a bundle of unanswerable questions. All rights reserved ©
