Casualty of Darkness

The puppet dances frantically in the shadows of the night,
Her fragile strings so tightly wound,
As she strides slowly into the forest of doom,
She hears that eerie, deafening and pestilent sound...

Poised perniciously in delusional psychosis,
There is a persistent and treacherous belief,
That in the darkness they fly in the tree tops,
Presenting peril and discontent as they spread their wings...

She was so tired of being frightened and torn,
And stringently weary from being used,
The darkness knows no preference,
Nor any boundaries of indisputable abuse...

Her abnormal state marked by horrid memories,
Draw the blood tears that run down her face,
As she curls up tightly in the darkness of night,
Unconsciously the image of any future effaced...

There is a deviation in the path and not sure which way to proceed,
Along the trail you can see where they bled,
Attempting to eradicate the warrior of darkness,
A catastrophic failure of the soul left them dead...

The beast spread their wings vicious and wide,
Shadows fall where the evil lays,
The imperilment is cast in the trees far above,
A casualty of darkness with her life she has paid...

And It is over...