Desperation's Daughter

Her corset laced, her thoughts unhinged,
Her dreams were whisked up in the wind.
Her prayer had failed, her pleads unheard,
Her faith was frayed with every word.
Her hair pulled up, her make up ran,
Her heart has been through all it can.
Her boots are zipped, her fists are clenched,
Her tears have left her sweatshirt drenched.
Her knees are bruised, her wrists are sore,
Her blood has stained the hardwood floor.

She's not what you'd call perfect,
She's not what you'd call pure,
She's not someone you've heard of,
And this I know for sure.
She's the moonlight in the darkened morgue,
She's the glimmer of the rain,
She's the whisper of a broken heart,
The girl without a name.

Her passion's gone, her motives fade,
Her innocence has since decayed.
Her eyes were dulled, her heart was pure,
Her destiny has not a cure.
Her skirt unbuckled, her bra unhooked,
Her face retreats from all who looked.
Her teeth bit down, her muscles tensed,
Her nose picked up his mix of scents.
Her earrings hung, her stomach churned,
Her broken heart in her chest burned.

She's not what you'd call perfect,
She's not what you'd call pure,
She's not someone you've heard of,
And this I know for sure.
She's the moonlight in the darkened morgue,
She's the glimmer of the rain,
She's the whisper of a broken heart,
The girl without a name.

Her meaning lost, her image shamed,
Her smile masks the self-disdain.
Her words were soft, her lies held out,
Her choice was tainted without doubt.
Her hair was gold, her lips bright coral,
Her passion blinded every moral.
Her lust was faint, her fate was cruel,
Her love had broken every rule.
Her body quivers, her heart divided,
Her fragile soul was so misguided.

She's not what you'd call perfect,
She's not what you'd call pure,
She's not someone you've heard of,
And this I know for sure.
She's the moonlight in the darkened morgue,
She's the glimmer of the rain,
She's the whisper of a broken heart,
The girl without a name.

Her path has been chosen.