A whisper of her name
She was dreaming that caused her
to arouse from sleep
Yet a feeling of yanked pressure was felt
Her dawn of oppressing nightmare has afore started.
In the Kingdom of Shadow, she’s treated
like a Princess
Yet she’s stuck up in her room to reminisce.
She doesn’t know how to begin
But she’s now at the edge that insanely wants in a demise;
No! A cold-blooded action was made
But her aura shows a benign,
Her tolerance was for everybody’s peace
where their existence made her, please.
Her kindness and innocence was left scathed
Where salty tears she bathed
And started to form the engraved scars
Every moment of time she blames herself as the cause
Where faith and hope she only depends.
Her voice is melancholy echoing
Merely everyone heard her gleefully laughing.
No one could even unlock her at the prison
And welcoming herself as a visitor on her own cell
she’s already painting.
She is not a saint and she vastly needs to explain
But her concerns are abundantly weighed.
Though her patience is now slowly fainting.
How long will she have a melancholic life?
When chances were only exploited.
A heavy invisible feeling she’s hiding
A facile mask she’s using
And the villain lives like a zilch
Treated her like a perk.
Pillow is her only comfort
The blanket is her only ward
Yet prayer is her support
Faith is her sword and still,
Hope will be her fruit.
A fruit of forgiveness that will be carved in the learnings and transgression
As hope is a responsibility, a choice, and a decision.
Where to suffer is her virtue as she trusts the most her Almighty One that everything will be done
And to continue to live is the most essential.
Thank you
@chrismadboy2016