Angelica St. Darke
Part Of A Masterplan - Poem by Angelica St. Darke
Her ruby red lips now mottled with blue. The face that once mocked falls silent and still.
Her long shiny locks all matted and dank, near perfect skin drained of life shaded grey.
The depths of her eyes bore deep in to her soul, window left open yet no flicker of light.
Cold remnants of heart presenting no fresh clarity.
Her shameful disgrace so crude and obscene, exiled from kin no chance for return.
Lingering unrest resides thick in the air, assumed liberation from this mortal coil.
She lies poised, tainted by the radiance of corpse, consumed by the sweet sickly aroma of decay.
Death boasts the darkest of attractions she'd thought, her nightmare life In death set free.
Foreseeing new hopes for forgiveness and peace, her status renewed amongst the realms of deceit.
But death does not beckon her on this night nor the next, no place to repent no redemption found here.
To late to turn back path long since closed, eternal damnation now all that is posed.
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