She walks pale as the waning moon beneath the blackest of skies
Black like her heart, like her eyes, like her soul as she eats the moths
That flit toward the ever fading light, beating their wings against smoke
Stained glass willing to give their lives for just that one fix of subtle light.

She smiles as sadly as the sun hiding behind clouds as angels sing and scream
Lifting hands to the heavens and lowering their eyes to the sins of him and her
As we all stumble fitfully along on treacherous roads, finding our feet fail to move
Evenly or even quickly, letting nails stick between our toes and bleed into the earth.

She cries tears of poison that when they fall upon the lips of those that might kiss
Them away, they seep into the blood and stick to the bones, crawling slowly
Through their veins to take residence inside their minds and hearts until there
Is nothing left but a hollow being with sightless eyes who eventually will die.

She picks the leaves off the trees and feeds them to the wraithlike beings in her mind
Whispering softly, soothingly, telling them of her hopes and dreams that are caked
With dust and lined with broken promises, inching along fighting for a little room
To breathe or to suffocate under the pressure of eternity and it's glorified mistakes.

She finally sets her head down upon a pillow, watching as the stars fade one
By one into darkness, watching the moon as it grows sick and weak until
It cannot be seen at all, waiting with open eyes to greet the beings of dark
Knowing that when they reach their greedy hands out for her throat

She dies.

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