Diary of a Poet 8

The leaves crunch beneath her feet as she walks through the woods so dark
Just aimlessly walking searching for her blackened heart
Saddened and hopeless she streams tears that turn to ice
Living her life by the roll of the tainted dice


Tree's with roots and branches that look like claws
Trying to reach out and grab her sucking her into despairs jaws
The soil turning into thick, black mud making her sink slowly deeper
Where she'll slip into Hell where madness will greet her
She starts to feel prickly feelings in her skin
And realizes that thorns are protruding from within 
As they puncture through her flesh the poison begins to spread
Spread throughout her body making it's way to her head
It fills her eyes and she can no longer see
So now she takes this torturous walk into Hell blindly
Going crazy from the pain and thoughts 
Now surrounding the thorns are blackened blood clots
Decorated in her own misery and torment
She has become one of Hell's decorative ornaments