May 20, 2006

A fallen goddess,
Black hair,
Pale skin.
She walks towards the bridge,
Ready to plunge in.
Her clothes are rags,
Her satin skin is torn.
Her heart is weathered,
And her soul is worn.
With nothing left,
And nothing to live for,
She’s filled with dread,
And can’t live anymore.
The edge she’s reached.
Her shattered heart aches,
And with each fallen tear,
A little more her soul breaks.
She’s sad,
Alone,
Broken,
And afraid.
She lives with nothing,
Except her rage.
Up the barrier,
Climb her feet.
No one’s there to save her.
No one’s there to weep.
She stands on the top,
Realizing her fate.
And this is how it ends,
How she rids herself of hate.
The wind is cold,
And chills her fear,
And that is when she realizes,
“I’ve always been here.”
In her dreams,
She’s visited this place.
And in her dreams,
She sees a dead face.
“The face is mine.
I’m destined to jump.
And when I hit the ground,
I’ll die in a clump.
A clump of heartaches,
And fears.
A clump of depression,
And tears.”
Her breath escapes her chest,
As she leaps from the edge,
Knowing full well,
That all her pain will end.
 
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