The Edge

If only the veil of darkness
didn’t cling to her heart
and summon the creatures of night
who prowled in her brain
like vampires and ghouls
ate her dreams and consumed her spirit.

But it was too late now
to leave the fray in her sanity
find a place she could hide
from the terror of hellish memories,
which were eating her insides.

There was time when life
was not a grave for her hopes
other than a cemetery in reflections
where love was a rotting corpse.

That was before the demon
claimed her youth
held her a chamber of torment
until her wings were clipped.

She still holds onto that one image
of the spring she once knew
a season without tears
or the screams that scarred.

Somewhere in all the cruel
attacks of madness
apart of her still sees
the leaves of her worth
continuing to hang on tomorrow’s tree,
as long as one remains other than wither
then she’ll keep waiting
for summer’s blossoms from her suffering.