Wrapped carelessly in blood-stained silk sheets,
cast by the moon's nuturing light she lies
cold and forgotten on the ocean's sea brink,
floating above the waves and shore like
a tossed away lie.
And in her lifeless eyes she captures broken stars,
bringing their light into her callous soul,
so contradictory to what her purpose holds.
She does this to keep her soul here and to fill that gaping hole.
Cursed by whom she was created from,
her life is not led by her.
It's a failed prophecy now dancing among
tall, lonely trees of disguised glory,
which amongst buildings of indignity.
But she dare not hurt nor help
the others, dare not leave this shore.
She would never involve herself again in the trifles of them
from October's End
a beautiful poem from Doppleganger Do Wrong from 2007 on the Nothing Zone
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