No hope

                       for escape

Met with the swirling snow of a cold winter's dream

She can't wake up.

                                       Trapped

sinking into an inky black abyss

Of oblivion

Pain, white-hot

shines like a bright, white light through to her bedroom chamber

It stings and hurts

But it grips her hair tight and by its hold on her roots,

She obeys.

It's natural to submit,

to give over control,

When the prize is flashing silver and thick red blood

Mercy and forgiveness reaping their own sins at her seams.

Washing it all away,

She is a clean slate too bright for the dark chamber it is imprisoned in.

How she shall fall

just when she thought she had it all.

Fall back to the dark,

It commands

and it gives her a push that sent her tumbling down to the darkness

And so she turns back,

and submits red control again and again.