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Sara Hila Oct 2022
My rib cage bruised over time,
It cannot endure any longer.
One bone after another,
Rougher and rougher.
Enormous feet,
Stomping my heart,
A giant tearing it apart.
Lungs such as mine,
The Reaper finds them
Breakfast of charcoal,
Supper of cigars,
My veins-
Dipped in the blackest of tars.
I seem to be,
But unlike most of you,
At least,
I am free.
Sara Hila Feb 2022
A room full of daisies,
is a girl’s dwelling place.

A bottle of bitter tears,
is what keeps youthful her face.

A set of silver daggers,
is used as a clip in her silky hair.

A flowery vase of ‘Belladonna’,
is her door out of this nightmare.

A girl is a porcelain doll,
if you touch her,
she will fall.
Sara Hila Jul 2020
In a dreadful night
where the moon was shining bright,
a mysterious maiden came running through.

Her face terrified,
for she was to become today a lovely bride,
but her love had just died.

Deep in a forest,
she was weeping in the dead of night,
under the soft moonlight.  

But when morning came,
she was already gone
and nothing was left of the girl,
except a beautiful willow tree in her name.
Sara Hila Jun 2020
Snowy skin,
Crimson cheeks,
Raven hair,
Head full of despair.

Soft flesh,
Cold body,
Scarlet eyes,
Like sunset skies.

With her alluring mind,
she eats men alive.
With her deadly seduction,
she embraces her destruction.
This is a poem about Eris, the Greek Goddess of Chaos and Discord.

— The End —