With untold nights which her sleep was unaccounted for.
As her breathing is the only thing alive about her.
Where everything else about her is simply dead.
Lays under the moonlight on her bedroom.
Forced nocturnally to repeat.

None knows of her horror,
As she refused to succumb anybody else to it.
Till her fragile soul could take not another single thread of pain.
And she would then die.
Every night. Every single night.

Come dawn she would rise,
Back from the dead;
From the cold darkness of she would caved herself into.
And that is how she keep fighting.
Surviving day by day with no improvements.

A woman worth the respect;
The appreciation;
And the great length to be with her.
And one should never stop her from herself.
That is how one should help.


-HIY