The One Who Strayed

Shall I share a tale of one who strayed,

Abandoned herself for yet another.

The rest of her life was the price she payed,

Until she pledged to nevermore stutter.

You see, entangled in a love unkind,

Once pure, then tainted, with wounds that endure.

A detention to which others were blind,

Her confidence departed, he made sure.

Soul and direction were soon to follow.

A skeleton became her reflection,

A veil to bury feelings hollow,

A mask she wore in hopes of deception.

Finally, she stood amongst her ruins

And found a sliver of herself before.

Trembling, she rid herself of the human,

Only to cycle back to him, times four.

The real became fake and fake became real,

Villain dressed in the suit of a victim.

A pattern not unique, yet none reveal,

With no one to tell, what a hellish system.

A blade of courage in the darkest field

Severed the talons holding her hostage.

Liberated, but with naught to wield,

A cluster of bones conquering bondage.

Against herself she headed a crusade,

She turned towards medicine hoping to repair,

Only to be met with statements that slayed,

A failure everywhere in despair.

In a field that’s scattered with words that bite,

Her last sense of self she nearly let slip.

And after escaping a grip held tight,

Never did she think that her script would flip.

From the ashes, she attempted to rise,

Medicine debrided who she had been.

At last she had found what brightened her eyes,

An immortal bird, she was born again.

The art of medicine there to renew

A reminder of herself once before.

With a new direction, long overdue,

Her hope for the future was thus restored.