Death of a Soul
She lies in beauty,
She contemplates the stars,
Murmuring the hymns of life.
She contemplates herself in the water,
Stale and still,
No movement.
She spits on the image,
She now abhors her,
A scorned woman.
...
She thinks of the demons, that
Touched her everywhere,
Demeaned, defamed and threw her on the ground.
She rose up, hollow within,
Mere a mass of flesh and bone,
Dragged her legs all around,
And, came out.
...
She sits beside the small tarn,
And, tries to regain her lost image,
She stirs the water persistently.
But nothing turns up.
She knows she has lost everything,
Her respect, her self-esteem,
But she lives in a mere body,
Death of a pure soul.
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