Here in lays a woman, who died long before she began to live.
And though death took her early, her real tragedy was having to go on so long as if she wasn't dead.
Here in lays the woman who faked a thousand smiles to see what I real one looked like on a foreign face.
I remember one time when she danced, steps filled with madness so that the crowd could be filled with cheers.
Or the time she sat and held a crying soul with the dead pieces of her own.
Selfless I call her, absolutely selfless.
Some say selfish, for she used others pain to feel alive. To feel relevant.
Here in lays a sad girl, who wished time and time again to just be in her grave, it was dug long before today, layed with memories she hated and love she failed to feel.
Here in lays one of the good ones, one of the lost ones, one of the dead ones.
We gather here today to celebrate a life lost long before the word life was placed on her lips.
Here in lays a beautiful woman.
Rest now darling, it's long overdue.
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Salvaged Soul
Поэзия"The mind is a beautiful servant but a dangerous master" It said "so i must then let it serve my soul" I whispered A salvaged soul is not new, it is old. It has lost and is still losing but is no longer who it was when it first broke. To be one step...
