Questioning Seeze

She clutches her friend's crimson hand by the hospital bed,
Her quivering body aches,
Of fright and determination,
To redeem her body from life's delay.

"Hold on." With the will if strength to transfer through her friends body,
To replace the stigma without shame, "Don't leave your life behind, don't board
the light, don't give in to Satan's game."

And her weak eyes scan the room,
the eyes of the walls fill her with fright,
Her cross she suppresses in her hand,
As cornices of mascara run down her pupils.

She questions herself,
Of anger and devotion to those she loves,
Her hands still shaking of dissolving fears and countless trust.
"Why am I here? Broken into pieces of hell,
Why am I stolen? Like mortal dwell?"

And the moments of truth seem to rattle like cornices of faith,
Like a relivement of satus changed her life into a different race,
Why she was suffering a night of coma,
A night of lost peace,
Of tattered Shields and protection to seize.

She woke up that morning with her friend holding her hand,
Her eyes wide open,
As she shook her stand.
"Where have you been, your meant to be dead, but somehow immortal wishes have started again."
If only the cuts could heal,
And the blood to stop it's boil,
Then every reach for the razor,
Wouldn't hurt the sharp swallowing for all.

Before you carve up the love between the night,
Into the divided souls,
Before the love ones are departed,
And crimson hands are left to hold.
The scratches that will never redeem,
For each mortal that is lost,
Every love in each lust that is overlooked.
Take what mortality hands you,
Don't break the veins that forget,
Once your scratched,
Love never gives in.

[This isn't one of my best poems, but it was written for a friend's friend who was once in hospital and the story continues from there...]