Felt all that was within, the dread and lonely pain
Fore seeing all the grey clouds, and endless rain
In an entrapment of her bleak, bedroom place
Many scratches of finger nails, adorned her face
Scars of the tormented, and that without release
Collected them like dolls, upon skin like a crease
Sunken eyes reflecting, the soul of a sunken heart
When futures hope seem diminished, and torn apart
Black lines of her heavy make up, drawn down
By so many tears, shed beneath her failed crown
Clasping her wrist, another attempt failed and stings
The music of her emotion, now in her ear doth rings
Though destinies sands, of her future are running out
Upon her lips adorn the kiss, of this deathly spout
That a dagger drawn from a box, of marble and wood
In her bedroom undetermined, to whether she should
The bare trees of autumn, tapping the dark window
Though to convince her, of an alternative innuendo
So much has she lost, that her black nails are tight
Around the handle of this blade, and loosing sight
That with one last breath, stolen by her searing pain
Of final thrust, that this blade pierced without a strain
Into her solemn heart, choking her grief as her blood
Ran like tears, down her breasts, staining like mud
Dropping to the floor, like a seed of the dandelion
Falls upon the winds end, but only to see oblivion
So much of her last thoughts, as her life ebbs away
Never shall she see, the beginning of a new born day
As the time for her life, has slowly begun to stop
From the blades handle, blood spills dropp by drop
Silent now, as her body lays still, grey as the sky
Young was her soul, victimised, too young to die