Her Evil

"The mind's too dark, thoughts, pure evil."
They murmur behind closed doors and windows
"Her eyes don't shine, her head's not right."
They tell each other and watch and whisper
"She'll waste away in hell she'll stay and pay for all these sins." They say
Unknowing of the troubled tides within the world where she resides
And no one sees how her eyes plead
When oft she stares into the reeds
Her voice like broken waves of sea
Drowning in bitter memories
The lyrics written on her arms
In painful, faded, ugly scars
That trace the length, Is she too marred?
The painful words of cruel discard
Aside the lake she's spent her days
Wistful memories as she fades
But finds it in herself to stay
Though she can hardly live this way
Reflections of her thoughts still mourning
Pain and sorrow tears adorning
What's left is not an evil thing
But grief, regret and keen longing.
For great is the pain the damned soul carries
While others watch, unknowing, wary
Judgment spurts out easily, compassion she has yet to see
Now let alone the woman be
To sit among the reeds and weep.
For rumors to fall on deaf ears
As her soul breaks and disappears
The past has swallowed her in grief
Then taken her away in peace
What was, was not an evil thing
But grief and pain and keen longing
And one thing we oft fail to see
We tend to judge too easily.