Death of the Poet Destroyer

~The Untold Fatal Attraction Poem~ Mid-morning she sees the sun ahead Her death flowed in a messaged bottle Gazing into her brown eyes upon all open sores, Her conscience dark and gray a never-ending war! A giant cyclone of a thousand thoughts swirled around this little girl. Inflicting away the pain, through the comfort of others pen The way she twisted and twisted life’s perception was out of her control Inside she knew the glass slipper was never hers to show off She is baring nothing but a tainted pen, walking throughout eternity’s sand A prosecutor of misdeeds, accomplishing what, without knowing the way Departing from her fractured self, she begins to slip into a righteous form, Twirling her twilight's pen like a baton, spinning it to one final stand She awakens in a dream, where her sadness does not allow the light to reform Her body is weak and pale against the birth of her undying sun Staring down into the deepness of every-bodies abyss Inside all souls is where she felt lighter, than the retarded sun gives A crimson sky follows her just to reveal her diminished soul, A life of shunning out the city glow will always dwell deep inside her Sleeping under society as one, insulting the taste of innocent blood Forgetting the vengeance, in a dimension where the pen is mightier than the sword How did she let it come to this? In one feeling she fell in love with the spirit of the living rhyme Watching from a cave, with a diabolical look Refusing to grasp the self - nature and kill off the destroyer's will A price beyond this enigmatic world, craving to be just like them Condemning her meaning to a blasphemy of white butterflies Destroying her poetic meaning that was destined to dance a tangle of endless rage In love with the essence of her deceased will She clings on to the dimness and brilliance at the same time All corpses lost beyond the girl in question, Sympathetic in a bizarre language, she mutters out sweetness Her heart mended, recognizing all the adoration and poetic addiction Exchanging the real terror, fixated by the life force of her poetic destruction Giving birth to a new revelation Now she will never deceive her love for the making of true art, Not wanting to belong in this wretched world with her destroying criteria, Her soul sails looking for a new era where love will no longer generate As she loathes the love and decides not to destroy this generation with hate At last, longing this one day with the angel of death With a closing teardrop, one last thought My death will not be the end; only the ascension~ by;pd