When she was young her heart was whole,
its strength and depth at her control,
to share it with those all around,
or save it for one to be found.

Then as a child her heart was split,
the pieces pulled with no remit,
mishapen, warped, beyond repair,
surrounded with self-centered ‘care’.

This girl grew up a shy recluse,
her soul a slave to dark abuse,
ignored by most, a friend to few,
in need of love, but one so true,

No trust or friendship in her life,
save for the cold kiss of her knife,
she drifts through life devoid of light,
a wraith, a shadow in the night,

Her memories hint of happy times,
though life reminds her of its crimes,
no love without a price to pay,
no knight to take her far away,

When she was young her heart was pure,
her mind was set, her stance was sure,
no thoughts of hate lived in her mind,
no fear of love left far behind,

This child now grown, alone and scared,
a life from which she’ll not be spared,
her dreams of love forgotten now,
as darkness takes its final bow.

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