Defeat

Sitting in a room of loneliness,

Contemplating life or death

A broken angel with paper wings,

Soaked in self doubt and defeat

These wings are much too heavy

And yet they are oh so light

She feels they are as worthless as she

This is it

The only way to make things right

To take away her lifeless light

She holds the blade and

Smiles at the sight of her savior

She's no longer debating

This was meant to be

The beautiful blade drags across her arm

Against her pale smooth skin

And the life begins to drip from her fading soul

She lays herself on the cold, hard floor

That resembles the souls

That have surrounded her

Her entire life

She's ready for her eternal slumber

Her body is stoic to the elegant wounds that

Are now embedded in her beautiful arm

She lays herself to sleep

With a single black rose

As she sleeps

She is victorious