She sits by the tree almost everyday,
wondering and hoping the pain will go away.
The kind of pain that you and me,
would never in our lives, ever wish to see.
She was orphaned as a child,
a sacrafice some think to only be mild.
The horrors she saw made her go blind,
but the images of those things still fresh in her mind.
The screams of others still rattle her ears,
re-awakening those dormant, horrible fears.
The blood still funs cold through her veins.
She cuts,
and she cuts,
But its all in vain.
The images still flash behind her dead grey eyes,
and people try to say "Oh its all just lies."
But one look into her horror eyes,
all thoughts on that just goes out the window and flys.
And those people didnt see what she saw,
and if they did, it would feel like they were beaten raw.
She sits by the tree almost everyday,
wondering and hoping the pain will go away.
