Broken,
Is her spirit,
Her wings
Are without feathers...
For decades she sat
On a brittle thorny perch
Bound by rope
And heavily chained
Tethers.
Every step,
She was walking on eggshells...
For, she was doomed
By the evil, selfish and wicked
At heart.
Not in the name of love,
But for fulfilment
Of cruel, greedy obsessions -
For such selfishness
Her soul was torn,
Tainted and pulled apart.
She once flew
As high as the heavens,
Now, A stranger,
She is to herself.
Her cage is now left open,
It is, but for her fears,
That she remains perched
Like an old book on a dusty shelf.
Mentally, she still flys
To the highest of heights
And dives deep, inward,
Into her own psychological abyss ...
But sometimes she finds her internal universes to be too draining,
Making such journeys
Mentally and physically
Too hard.
She is no longer
In restraining tethers...
But scarred.
By Lady R.F. (C) 2018.