Her eyes were cold,
Her lips were pale,
Her heart was frozen,
Her smile was broken,
Her soul was empty,
Her face was spotted with regrets and pain,
Her mind was possessed by some unknown powers,
Her emotions were burried when she was a young girl,
She was a peacock in a cage,
Beautiful but locked.
She had no words and no voice
For silence ruled her.
Her memory was her enemy
For it left her alone everytime.
Her fears? They were uncountable, infinty.
Her thoughts? They would haunt her.
Her dreams? They failed.
Her people? They ditched.
She was a dead flower,
No color, no fragrance,
Only thorns attached
And petals crushed.
That was her identity.