Bird With Broken Wings

Like a bird in a cage She longs to fly now Like one chosen for the kill She waits to die now Blasted and cursed For all that she's done Imagined friends in false jubilee is all that she's won Alone now she sits, laughing within herself But no, now she's crying Trapped in scorn's wealth Shaking and confused, it's from Heaven she fell Torn and tormented Now wandering through Hell Once known as "human", Now become a solitary empty shell One full of starvation Devoid of nurturing delights The ones that serve her soul only Now stripped with all frights Now here she stands barren Like such unholy things And there she shrieks trapped Like a bird without wings And all angels' hands that offered to raise her up as a ladder They've all fled from her wasted form So worn out and battered Every warming smile and loving stare has been torn out an shattered And now she is glaring Glaring nowhere At nothing, in gloom It's what she's revealed that has sealed her doom Every desire and weakness That's landed her in storm and bleakness And nothing she will ever see can ever bring her back Not with her will to choose and fill in where others lack Those little places The untold spaces She once seemed to make real They don't matter anymore since she forgot how to feel There's no pride in what's done in vain No matter who looks on in disdain Whether it is the one actor or others It is the one actor's vigor that smothers Under all the pressure Of handling one's treasure Whether from within or afar So whatever the case She'll suffocate Like a butterfly born in a jar When her colour was noticed She refused to show its Brightness and light anymore For the love that she felt For all of her feats became repulsive and abhorred For her, respect is cruelty "How dare her honor roam free!" So now, as pollen on the breeze, her spirit becomes a whisper Yet she has no right to latch onto a sister No she is too unattractive and dumb Nothing like her elder innocence exists any longer This knowledge of hers seeps in and goes numb There's no way she is special For she is replaceable when spent And those in whom she confides the most Make certain to give her this hint For when she lowers herself for other's health it is great But a single act to self-serve is world-hate And yet, no one cares to admit what they have in mind for her fate It seems to matter not, if fate be her choice Even if fate were their decision It shall be wronged by verification of her voice What a lonely path! Isolated and unknown And through her heart, amazingly, There are still daggers to be thrown So much still to bear, although nearly grown Finally, as in the breaking of meat from the once tranquil dove's breastbone, Her shadow rapes her And to only herself, her true essence is known