She traces a reflection, not her own

Her fingers outline the mirror, depiction of a monster

A portrayal not her own but made a reality by the ghosts that haunt her past

Inside she proves the only is constant is change

Her views of the world; crystal clear

A walking shell, skeleton of the life once held so dear

The beginning of the end; our suicide

Attempt at redemption; atleast know I tried

There is only so much one can take

Despite how long, she will not break

Her good judgement of character sodomized by the broomstick of society

Who teaches her to contradict everything she believes

"Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind"

She now assumes the portrait of a common fairy

Predicting death to all who cross her path

Thoughts of her own, the last of her kind

This dead flesh body will eventually decay

At last she'll be free on this dying day

These days are numbers as her soul fades away

Rekindle the flame of her burning desires

Like the kerosene lies that fuel lovers fires

The blackened lungs of a pathological liar

The attention whore with needs so dire

The track marked beauty queen who just wants to get higher

A bathtub littered with electrical wire

The lifeless corpse still waiting on it's pyre

Uncorrupted youth's eyes ceasing to tire

Like atheists serenading the sacred choir

Her breath dies out with the greatest of ease

Smooth stained glass seas

Wind humming verses of the slightest breeze

Slowly combing the ancient primordial trees

She calmly falls to her knees

Free