Midnight Misery Poem by Elizabeth Sheaffer

Looking from the outside in:
A wounded girl awaits
Awaits the day her time will come
Awaits her saving grace

The hour draws near
That fated hour
A Midnight Siren's Song
Her blood runs cold
Her mind grows wary
And soon the voices come

If one would only show her
Aye, if she could only see
She herself is the only cause
Of her Midnight Misery

Alas, she sits
Alone, she waits
But no help will e'er come
For it's through her mind
And her wounded soul
That this Misery's undone

Perhaps the girl might see the light
Perhaps she'd not despair
If only one would comfort her
If only someone cared

Offer a shoulder, some respite
From the barren existence she sees
Her self-made curse takes hold
Alas, her Midnight Misery