And they string her heart along, making her a puppet to their wicked deeds;
Never ceasing, never giving her the sweet breath of integrity.
She is nothing more than wisp of black smoke in the world called her own,
She is just that shadow of the dark in the world she once ruled.
Control of only her smile,
The smile that sees nothing but the empty chasm of the darkness that consumes her.

The demons of the night rip apart her soul,
Throwing the remnants into the eternal black;
The black where even the devil daren't step;
Where gods cannot shed light.

She is lost and broken,
No saviour, no knight in shining armour,
She will never be saved, not by the light or the dark,
Completely and utterly alone,
She has nothing,
She has no one.

She will have no comfort from pain,
No happy moment to reflect for hope,
Nothing to yield the courage to save her,
She is the amoeba, with only her beating heart to split.

Her last breathe is drawn,
Just as easily erased,
And she ceases to exist,
All that remains is the everlasting anguish.

RATE THIS CHAPTER!