The magic mirror haunted me with its revelations
So I ripped it into to a thousand blessed damnations
Now the image is multiplied
Stalking me my own thousand truthful eyes
I cannot bear the vision of the shattered glass
Biggest of the pieces pierces hard and fast
Dagger in my hand
Murderous intentions land
I stab my chest: rip out my emptiness
The shattered mirror drinks up beloved heiress
It shines around for all to see
The victim that it made of me
Lifeless I watch the coroner make his examination
Oh it all began with Daddy was his clichéd declaration
The day he broke her mother's nose
Or perhaps the day upon her petrol throwed?
No no, I think there's more to see
The time he made her believe in he
Maybe when her mother was too weak to fight?
To keep her daughter in her sight?
What about deceiving lover's part
She was so free with love and heart
Happily gave herself away
To anyone prepared to stay
Pleased to give her soul to rape
Accepted it all as her fate
Believed in sanctity of broken souls
Thought in her they could be whole
Believed that maybe they would mend
And in return could be her friend
Or maybe they would set her free
From the wretched soul that became of she
But no! Magic mirror on the wall
Told the story of lady's fall
In the end she made a choice
The only way to have a voice
No more a victim at others' will
She possessed herself
Her blood to spill
So in the end and ever after
Her demise was not the fault of life
She became her own
Sacrifice
- Author: sylviasearcher ( Offline)
- Published: August 20th, 2018 01:57
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 39
Comments4
Wow... Is this a story?
I suppose all poems tell a story.
Thanks for the wow. Was it a good wow?
One of the top drawer postings - keep writing.
Thanks Michael. This one gave me a sleepless night!
Whoa! I’m new on here and don’t know how to make a pile on my favorite. When I learn how to do this will be mine.
Thanks H Ray. You click the star 🌟
wickedly ragged and real.. once started, I felt compelled to see it through to the bitter end.. powerful stuff indeed and with loads of potentially powerful subliminal messages and archetypes .. both Young and Freud would have a field day.. Bravo...
Not sure that's a compliment.
It is a very laid bare piece. It's lack of beauty is certainly unavoidable.
It is inwardlyband outwardly bitter.
There are no heroes or heroines.
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