The Damned

Pale as a corpse, she seems to be;
her spirit and soul, both, cold and empty.

Too long ago, she had rejected her faith.
She, now, is imprisoned in the form of a wraith.

Her spirit, cursed to dwell, forever encased
where she denounced beliefs she had once embraced.

The blasphemous words with which she cursed
are now destined, never, to be reversed.

In her God’s anger she was struck down,
her final rest shall never be found.

She dwells in sorrow day and night,
never again embraced by the all-healing light.

Haunting, for eternity, in her woodland tomb;
her soul had strayed and shall ever be doomed.

Trapped inside an immortal nightmare,
for all to see, her soul was laid bare.

Destined never to leave this place,
her soul and surroundings are in sad disgrace.

When night is in its darkest hour
and the rain falls in a melancholy shower -
the wind, it seems to cry as well
and still, she exists in her solitary Hell.