Little red victimhood walks through the forest.
Wearing her rags and scars of the poorest.
To her abandoned and empty house she goes.
So unaware it's sad, I wonder if she knows.
Shadows and phantoms lurk behind every tree.
Her self constructed hell forever she shall be.
Her ghosts she holds close, empty and cold they are.
She holds their hands, and never let's them far.
The wolf stalks her quietly on her way.
Wonder if she knows he's there to stay.
For he comes from inside her, he is not external.
The love affair they have, leaves no room in her burning infurno.
Her demons she holds in high esteem, her savior she casts down.
Broken king with his broken crown.
His heart it bleeds.
Pierced by his broken dreams.
He crawls away under her gaze.
But she is too transfixed by her daemons ways.
He cries her name, but she does not hear.
Consumed by all her bottomless fear.
Away he crawls with his dying heart.
He left behind the best part.
He shall not circum to her lack of fight.
It burns hot and guides him, his light that is so very bright.
She did not see it, she did not care.
That pain he could no longer bare.
So he crawled so far away.
In hopes that he may fight another day.