A Perfect Hell

 

My Marring, 

   Is an Unholy Black Thing

  A mutilation cursed of detriment

    By the loop of vapid insanity 

  I have paraded in. 

  In the name of love

      or obligation,

        responsibility, 

           guilt, 

    Or just pure empathy...

I have resided here, 

  In this den of asylums, 

This putrid perfect hell

  all for her; 

      a souly unholy miser 

   a woman who never should have bared kin.

  Enslaved by her dissidence, 

     Then dissonance was all that would follow. 

 If ever I was a person, 

   It was of no real merit, between her & I, 

       for all I was good for 

Was for her, to love me, 

  Rather than, 

     That I could ever feel loved, BY her.

A callous siphoning, 

    A disregard of any remnant left

      that might have allowed her daughter dear, 

          to bloom. 

Ever a cold day, in an eternal hell, this life...

   Syphoning off nothing I have left to give. 

As shackled as any loveless creature, 

   I will remain here withering, 

Til perhaps the chain breaks.