A friend co-authored parts of this. It was a sort of 50/50 type thing. I ended it though :) lol
Below is the poem entitled Death is Beautiful which was written by poet
Guild. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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She wakes up.
Surrounded by darkness.
She tries to stand, but is knocked to the floor.
She looks around for a way out.
But she sees nothing.
Suddenly she feels as if she is being strangled.
She fights for her life against the unknown.
Soon the grip loosens and she gasps for air.
She cries in relief.
The relief is short lived as she drowns in her tears.
As she searches for this unknown attacker, she bumps into the wall and finds a light switch. She flips it on. A light bulb hanging from the ceiling flashes on.
The walls are mirrors. All she sees is a reflection of herself.
But she doesn't know it’s her for sure…it could be her attacker mimicking her.
She grabs the side of her head and shakes it violently. She tries to stay sane.
How could she after going through what she went through?
The whole situation caused her to question everything.
She lets go and takes a deep breath.
She looks at the mirror directly in front of her.
Limping slowly toward it she feels her heart racing to find out why this happened to her. She sees a black shadow flash behind her.
She whips her head around to look, but sees nothing.
As she approaches the mirror, she puts her hand up to touch it.
When her finger makes contact with the mirror, the light goes out.
She hears a wicked laughing. It’s soft and coming from all directions,
Or is it in her head? She falls down to the ground. She is now in the fetus position.
“Good job my good and faithful servant." she hears the voice say.
The voice is evil, but the words are God’s.
She slowly stands up still crying.
She can’t control herself and her legs fall underneath her.
“The devil must be doing this." she thinks.
She runs into a mirror shattering it in millions of pieces. She realizes this has happened to her soul too. She picks up the pieces and holds them up.
She says “Fix them! Fix me! Fix my heart and my soul! If you can do anything, fix this mess!"
She throws them helplessly to the ground, some shards going into her legs.
She falls in pain and weakness.
The black shadow appears in the shape of a beautiful woman.
It sits next to her and says “He can’t fix you; I can. Take my hand and we will go to a wonderful world without this pain. You’ll be safe."
The girl takes the shadow’s hand.
Not realizing death comes in beautiful forms.