Forsaken

I run away from this painful fight.
Running from this cold but not escaping,
I'm suffering from its frosty bite.
Hiding my pain, hiding my shame,
Never have felt such a terrible fright.
Will I ever be saved?
Will I ever be craved?
I'm crushed under sorrow's unmerciful might.
Will I ever stand free?
Will I ever take flight?
They've tied up my legs and cut off my wings,
Left me damned for whatever demons the darkness brings.
Forced to listen to all the songs that misery sings,
I'm forsaken with a forever-broken heart that eternally stings.
Drenched in an agony that I cannot escape,
It lingers on my soul like a pain-tainted drape.
It follows me everywhere I go, even to my dreams.
It seems nothing can make it stop-
Not even my tears, not even my screams.
Everywhere I go, I'm surrounded by chaos.
Never in my life have I felt so lost.
I'm just a part of the wind being blown like dust:
Stuck in this world, I have few to love and fewer to trust.
My strength withers more and more with every breath.
I suffer from a misery that I fear can only end in death.
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I'm a very bright and cheerful girl. Yet oddly enough, I have always been drawn to the darker side of poetry. "Annabel Lee," by Edgar Allan Poe, is a perfect example. I 've always found a strange comfort in sadness, as well as an ironic beauty in sorrow. When I read a poem that is as truly beautiful as it is depressing, I start to feel a powerful emotion swelling deep within my chest-the kind that doesn't just touch, but completely embraces the hearts and souls of readers.