The wings spread backwards,
Feathers torn.
A boneless sheath
And crown of thorns.

She walks in circles;
Vengeful queen.
She vows a vow
Of sympathy.

One not subtle,
One denied.
She conjugates
Her morbid lives.

For pity spoken;
Never heard
She dies each day
From people's words.

She’s far from haunting,
Far from vile.
Far from much
But a tired child.

With weary passions
She swaggers on.
And prays for renaissance
At every dawn.

They say a vengeance
Grown too wild,
Can rule a world,
Can conquer miles,

Can shed a heartache,
And bleed till death.
All painless, shameless,
No regrets.

I'm not sure glory
Fed this flame,
So on she walks...
Someone to blame.

To blame for hatred,
...Her disease.
She haunts the wind
And scours trees.

She wisps and settles,
Flows and roars.
They stole her life,
She'll take much more.

A spirit walking...
Blessed revenge.
A whisper spoken,
...She kills again.

She tiptoes... Softly,
Into their ear.
A vengeful queen,
"Wish you were here".

 
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