Teardrops staining the eye-lined stare
of the lonely, tormented youth.
She wails in anguish as she senses
the dying of her only soul.
This living world no longer holds
intent, purpose, nor direction.
The Blessed Church, of promises,
has left her hopeless and forsaken.
The tear-stained child now pries open
the sparkling vial of death's intent.
Accompanying the flask of darkness,
she consumes her fateful demise.
Delicately disposing herself
upon the delectable goose down;
successfully sealing the serenity
to her own internal insanity.
Copyright Vallee Rose