The Darkness

She stands alone,

wishing to be gone.

Cruel fate won't release its grip,

she's hanging on by her fingertips.

So many reasons to live,

yet so many to not go on.

Tired of being alone,

but she cannot leave,

for the tendrils of the darkness keep her there.

The darkness is close to swallowing her up,

but she doesn't wish to die,

by its cruel, forsaken hand.

When will it leave her alone?

She knows it will not,

her mother died,

for her mother also suffered from the same cruel fate.

She continues to live, 

hoping no one else, 

shall be claimed by the sharp unbreakable tendrils of the horrid darkness. 

Author's Note

Wrote in 5th period today, so if it seems a little rushed, it's because I was trying to write this without being caught.

Reviews

[Kenaz]

Hmm, there is strong emotion here. Stemming from the loss of a mother is powerful. This poem tugs at my heartstrings, a good piece in time. Regards.
-Kenaz

P.S.:"...cruel, forsaken hand."

[Emma Marie Taylor]

I love this. Its so deep and gives a hint of something gone wrong with her mother. Will you make this into a story?

[~L.A.]

Yes, I most likely will, and I'll make sure to put it onto this website.