She emulates thick pitch blackness as she claws her way across the cold reflective surface

Dark tar designs etched in her face, spilling from her eyes down her cheeks, her soul is only one solid mass of encircling darkness

Her heart refuses a beat, screams echo the room and secrets lurk in the walls, laughs pound her head

Everything confined in a rusted set of bars that smell of metal and agony, her hair drapes over her scales and clamy skin like lace hand- worked into complexity, her limbs twisted and face disfigured 

Time isn't relative fore it is distorted, she possesses darkness and also portrays beauty and elegance as well as wicked and shades lost in color

She is me

Dark beautiful