Her wounds are weeping eyes,
black as the hell she's created inside her,
like the one she built
brick by brick by broken bone.
She is a void,
a shell of magnificent beauty
with cascading locks
and limbs that go on for miles and miles.
Her skin has long since turned to ice.
Marble-fine, she was Michelangelo's secret muse.
He needed her, he wanted her
but she left him unfulfilled.
He carved and carved
but could set no angel free,
he crashed and burned
and she laughed as his fingers turned into ash.
'Bye bye, beautiful', she whispers
and she laughs (oh how she laughs)
every time she watches grandeur fall.
She goes from place to place,
Whitechapel to the needy streets of New Orleans.
The souls she's collected fall to her feet.
They crash. They burn bright enough to light the whole sky.
Her heart is a tarnished lie,
maleficent knowledge
of what really lies
behind the masks we all wear.
Upon cobblestone paths, she leads a trail,
and we try to follow it to her.
It shines like a beacon in the night
yet we still wander lost.
Her walls are covered,
photographs of empty faces,
fragments of empty lives
once so beautiful.
She knows us,
knows us well.
She feeds of the nightmares
we create from all the bits of Heaven
that have fallen by our feet.
Needy. Hungry (I hunger. Please, please...).
Feed off the wicked.
The beauty we pretend we see
fades away.
She claws. Our flesh she bears.
Ugly. Red. Raw.
Our eyes she plucks out and tosses to the sky.
Bye bye, beautiful. Bye bye.
Written By- Christine Bottas
Username- @Nyhterides
Thank you Christine for this beautiful contribution to the collection, we are so happy to have you join us!
The Bards,
WPRS.
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Haunted Verses - Paranormal Poems
PoetryParanormal poetry collection, hosted by Wattpad's Paranormal Community.
