She an epitome of catastrophe,
While she is supposed to be virtue.

She is like the astringent on my face,
When she is supposed to be mercy.

She is the summer and winter,
While I'm the spring she ruins.

She is the thunder I hear when I cry,
I'm a budding rose to be slaughtered.

She takes it all but never gives,
Sucking my life out like a leech.

She is the nightmares that choke,
In the brightest of sunshine.

Wish she went back to devil's chamber,
Worship who incarnated her.

She is Thanatos taking me to Hades,
But only with an angel's face.

For I was the light lost in the mist,
Drugged drunk by fed fables,

Till my soul was assassinated,
As I'm still breathing alive.

Here I'm, the walking dead,
As she raped me on fool's paradise.

This is my stillborn existence,
As the grim reaper exits in possession.

All veils drop from her face,
Lifeless, Ad infinitum now.

***

A/N: This poem is very close to me so I'd like to hear what you interpret from this poem, so let me know?