Drained

The world grew up on her

Not knowing the truth

A drained soul she was

Tired of pretending to be happy

Of faking self-love

Of over-loving others

Was it even worth the ache

Not even a slightest bit

But there she was

Hoping everything would work out

Nuances of everything

Perturbed her soul in all possible forms

She nurtured her wounds

Got up every single day 

After passing out

This feeling of self-doubt

Never really left her

It was always there in the back

A dark entity

How could she ever get rid of it?

Perhaps never

Perhaps the entity was supposed to be locked off

In a room empty, filled with positivity

Locked on the outside

Never allowed to leave

She pondered upon its possibility

But didn’t give it a try

Why should she

It didn’t promise anything

Why work on it

When you probably won’t gain from it

Alas! The human tendency

To think of gaining on all terms

Is it even a gift to be human?

Perhaps, no

She knew nothing

Nor did anyone else

At last, she was alone 

Fighting her own demons

Demons, who latched itself on her

She needed to be freed

Needed to be freed

Battling all alone

A warrior she was