There is only darkness
Where all others hide their souls,
A gravity so ugly
Where the air is rank and noisome
And the darkling ghosts hide screaming
In the humming, chasmic void
Where she hides forgotten secrets
In the place she finds no floor.

There are chains wrapped tight around her
Where vainglory's efforts fell
In existence ever futile
When her life is reeking sickly
Where the stink of rotting fetters
Dig in flesh so fat and weak,
A carcass everlasting
In the space 'twixt birth and death.

She has no redemption
In her crippled lead-weight tomb,
A vesselled vat of loathing
Where the fear and hatred rule her
And the candle never was,
And the darkness ever is,
And the dying always breathes pain,
And the screaming claws the empty,
And the agony beyond touch
Rakes her broken mind and fractured eyes
So tortured in denial of the
Anguish shrieked within,
And she holds her shame in shattered hands
On bloody knees and ribboned breasts
And hoarsely whispers to the void,

"I know,
I know,
I'm nothing".

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.