She cowers alone in her fortress of dreams
the stagnant mote a reflection of pain.
Thunderous winds call forth the storms
that pulse like the blood in her veins.
Enslaved by the bittersweet teardrops
her songs drone in mournful lament.
A shattered spirit with a ragged soul
bound with the cuffs and chains of torment.
Entombed in a tower that has no key
terror rises as night creeps near.
Shrouded in the raven robes of despair
she's held tight in the clutches of fear.
Eyes that should sparkle with enchanted delight
are frozen fixed in an un-natural gaze.
Spellbound she surrenders to the demons
waiting shadowed in the dank purple haze.
Set adrift in a rice paper sailing ship
sinking sure into the swirling abyss.
She gives way to dragons and gargoyle kings
and succumbs to Lord Deaths wicked kiss.
11 - 25 - 03