Generic

La pobrecita, 
Long gone in the asylum 
Beyond the white walls 
Of her own mind, 
Cries out in prayers 
But lose them among 
The bitter howls 
Of the ghosts at her feet. 
Her mirror no longer 
Reflects the image 
Of a face in her locket, 
Long tarnished 
By the punishment of living, 
Once too fast and loose 
But now all worn. 
And even the daggers 
Of speech and vision 
That her evil visage vomits 
No longer are sharp enough 
To kill the demons 
That lie behind her eyes. 
She’s just no longer 
The woman she believes 
She continues to be, 
So while brain and body 
Continue to decay 
The spirit keeps fighting 
A losing battle.

Abandoned Housewife