My black string

Here in my hand I hold love and pain.

In my hand I hold " death".

For I hold my perfect doll.

This darkness engulfs my hand.

It feels cold and bitter, against my hand.

I would swear its hell.  

It hurts so much.

However this can't be hell.

For hell burns and my hand is cold as ice.

The ice stains my doll.

Making its heart black as night.

Her black button eyes staring through my soul.

The night covers my doll, blinding me of all sight.

Its eyes now sinster with anger from me trapping it in this cold darkness.

Her face once as fair as lace.

Is now cruel as it can be.

I felt the path fading away as I began to stray from it.

As greed, jealously, anger, lies, corrupted my once perfect doll.

I became lost in this bitter darkness myself.

My once perfect pure soul tainted by darkness.

My love is now divided by hate.

I pulled the black string around her neck.

The string twisted around her neck like a sinster snake.

She died, and I slowly started to die as I pulled the string tighter.

I discovered all too soon the doll was me.

I tried to undo the knot.  

But it was stuck too tight.

I gasped for air as I fell to my knees all blue and purple.

Greed, jealousy, anger, lies were what made the black string.

I became hazy and dazed.

Yes, I died that day but so did my doll.

This is goodbye... My doll