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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1179817
a dark and twisted tale
The bones they lay in a shallow grave.
So deep, so dark her soul remains.
There came a shadow that did enslave.
It took her being, her self, and yes, even her name.
He spoke it aloud into the night air,
claiming her his own.
The possession of this child so fair,
taken with a skill that he had honed.
He is such a fierce dark storm.
So turbulent, so twisted is he.
She now moves in subtle form.
The pale white wispy shadow we see.
A life, which has ended midstream
taken without hesitation.
It now moves as in a dream,
a graceful floating apparition.
She will dance upon his grave
his time is coming near.
She will no longer be his slave
for there's nothing left to fear.
They will come to take this thing.
She is bound to his evil no more.
Her soul is now released to sing.
They will even up the score.
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