The Victim

In a bright sun-lit world there lies a dark shadowy place.
This is where she dwells.
In sadness.
In hate.
In vice.
In selfishness.
In paranoia.
In confusion.

She hides in the crumbling brick walls of her mind. The last shred of her sanity threatening to be stolen by this dark place of despair.

This is the dark place in which she dwells.
Of terror.
Of fire.
Of insanity.
Of annhilation.

She laments the loss of her dear one, the one that brought her back to light. The one that as soon as they found someone better, left without a backwards glance.

She has vowed, never to leave this place. To never again trust her heart with someone so evil. This place has become her morbid santcuary. This dark place of despair.

She cannot remember the times.
Of love.
Of happiness.
Of carelessness.
Of trust.
Of life.

Yet she feels as though she does not want to remember, those times were cruel and resentful. They brought to her, lie upon lie. And fake hope.

Despair is now hope, and selfishness is now love. Vice is now happiness. Paranoia is carelessness. This is what she has become, this is what she wishes to be.

I, however, know this is false. She is simply a girl, nothing short of human, who has just lost her way in the depths of her mind.

She is a victim of circumstance. A puppet of Evil. She does not fight back because the will has left her limbs. She does not speak because the words have no meaning.

At the raven's cry she will be gone. The 'would have beens' will surround her and take her from here. From this dark place.

But it will be too late. She was too far gone in the despair to ever be revived and saved. She was merely, a victim.