11-20-2010, 12:48 AM
-------A.N. Nervous now but yeah, go for it 
. --------
Liquidation of her soul - LiteraryFailurePiece.
There once was a woman who struggled to get
back to the present but her past was something she could not forget.
It haunted and tantalised her darkest nights.
She wanted to cry in bright, broad daylight
and wanted someone to notice how she felt
but she was too proud to tell, it was concealed.
In slumber, there was fear due to her nightmares
frightened that they would become reality but no-one would care.
Were her inner doubts taunting her too much?
Her wounds were far too bloody to touch.
She sat in the shadow, questioning herself.
Her partner in crime only thinks of himself.
His reflection was more important than her existence.
His thoughts were too trivial, his thoughts were too dense
and yet now his lady is sprawled upon the floor.
“I hear she tried to kill herself,” Like she did before...
“Has she succeeded?” No-one knows...
Until someone finds the body
and unveils the show.
A bloody mess lays on marble, dressed in ebony black.
One last wish; her lover could learn what he lacks.
She prayed for a love that could never die,
one different to theirs that now cannot survive.
It's a liquidation of a broken soul.
It's slowly draining as the body goes cold.
There was a love, now gone, that now does not exist
and a burgundy diary that now shall not consist.
“The woman had the biggest heart,”
I'm afraid her partner beat it for art.
This woman, this inner child, survived
and she thanks the Lord.
I know with the punches the woman couldn't see
and I know because that woman was me.
. --------Liquidation of her soul - LiteraryFailurePiece.
There once was a woman who struggled to get
back to the present but her past was something she could not forget.
It haunted and tantalised her darkest nights.
She wanted to cry in bright, broad daylight
and wanted someone to notice how she felt
but she was too proud to tell, it was concealed.
In slumber, there was fear due to her nightmares
frightened that they would become reality but no-one would care.
Were her inner doubts taunting her too much?
Her wounds were far too bloody to touch.
She sat in the shadow, questioning herself.
Her partner in crime only thinks of himself.
His reflection was more important than her existence.
His thoughts were too trivial, his thoughts were too dense
and yet now his lady is sprawled upon the floor.
“I hear she tried to kill herself,” Like she did before...
“Has she succeeded?” No-one knows...
Until someone finds the body
and unveils the show.
A bloody mess lays on marble, dressed in ebony black.
One last wish; her lover could learn what he lacks.
She prayed for a love that could never die,
one different to theirs that now cannot survive.
It's a liquidation of a broken soul.
It's slowly draining as the body goes cold.
There was a love, now gone, that now does not exist
and a burgundy diary that now shall not consist.
“The woman had the biggest heart,”
I'm afraid her partner beat it for art.
This woman, this inner child, survived
and she thanks the Lord.
I know with the punches the woman couldn't see
and I know because that woman was me.