She sat in a corner, away from the table <br />And dreamed of conspiracies and fables <br />Against her, all those spawned at her cradle <br />Around her, a tense, emotional bubble <br /> <br />She tore at her hair and scratched at her eyes <br />And in her heart grew, hate, remorse and lies <br />Afraid of the demons that hold her she cries <br />Alone with her thoughts she begins to capsize <br /> <br />She craved for an end, for a cessation of sorts <br />And thought of a tragic end with which to cavort <br />Away from the woe, a simple means of transport <br />A final destination, a consolation prize to extort <br /> <br />She crept from the shade of the imaginary enemy <br />And fell into a deep, murderous ceremony <br />Doomed to an end wrought with sorrow and agony, <br />Alas, she can no longer know anything but tragedy<br /><br />Warren Augustus de Guzman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/melpomene-2/
