deepundergroundpoetry.com
Dead Girl
Confined in darkness, she's hidden from sight.
Locked up and away, from the world.
The chains weigh heavy, the bonds tight.
Alone she remains, each and every night.
Rotting and decaying slowly she fades.
Like the end of a candle's burning flame.
Left to die. This is her fate.
Patiently she awaits,
Tears of blood flow down her face.
Locked up and away, from the world.
The chains weigh heavy, the bonds tight.
Alone she remains, each and every night.
Rotting and decaying slowly she fades.
Like the end of a candle's burning flame.
Left to die. This is her fate.
Patiently she awaits,
Tears of blood flow down her face.
Published 29th Feb 2012
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Anonymous
29th Feb 2012 10:55pm
this reminded me of lots of movies i have seen, your poem was just fabulous well written made me wonder why she was left to die but i guess she knows..tears of blood flow down her face such a sad fate, as the worms of life eat away her flesh and dark lonely soul...anyway i liked your poem i think you did a most wonderful job on it.. it was short and to the point that life is mortal we all have to die sometime..keep your pen flowing i want to read more of your wonderful poems
1st Mar 2012 1:24am
Thanks so much! Glad you enjoyed it. I've writing at least once a day...then I choose my bests to put up on here :]
6th Mar 2012 9:45pm
shattered by the sight of so many of lifes crulties
head collaped in her arms
drug down by the eyes of so many judgmental views
every one clipping at the strands of her heart stings
but her perfect imperfections are not for the taking
a strange creature with eyes like dimonds
that see in ways that few will ever know
lost inside that room
away from the light of the sun
mascara tracing down her face
silently and violently it builds
the tipping point
liebra scale of tollerence and maddness
bruses plauge her pail wrists from trying to break away
seemingly numb expression and black attire blending the pain of so many toxic echos
inside that room the candle burns
patiently she waits for it to die
hand held over the dying flame :)
head collaped in her arms
drug down by the eyes of so many judgmental views
every one clipping at the strands of her heart stings
but her perfect imperfections are not for the taking
a strange creature with eyes like dimonds
that see in ways that few will ever know
lost inside that room
away from the light of the sun
mascara tracing down her face
silently and violently it builds
the tipping point
liebra scale of tollerence and maddness
bruses plauge her pail wrists from trying to break away
seemingly numb expression and black attire blending the pain of so many toxic echos
inside that room the candle burns
patiently she waits for it to die
hand held over the dying flame :)
