She basks in her own glory of sadness.
Another fallen mess.
Whispers that lost it's meaning,
You find yourself wake up screaming.
The doll she holds tightly in her arms,
keeps her from thinking harm.
Footsteps trails behind her back.
Another spirit on attack.
Nightmares that keep her awake.
She holds her head to stop the voices from coming and her mirrors break.
shattered pieces how they fall,
one by one the voices call.
©terrylin53
T