She is Evil.

Sounds of outside
make the house flee silent
so the heart of it all
may cry the tears
that she had created.

Lay awake at night
And you hear the voices
Speak to you,
The thunder
It whispers your name
calling you.
Softly it grasps ahold of your thoughts
and you repeat the story
being retold
"She is--"
"She is--"
Lightly chiming the words
To the melody of the cackling lighting.
She--
She is--
Hate overwhelms the tune
as the memories reach the story.

To the end--
What is a beginning.

You feel it,
your soul being pulled blindly.
A heart.
What use to be your own,
Rests motionlessly
In the palms that had once
commited murder.

Helplessly,
You are trapped
in the echoing occurance
of lies you believe.
No longer have you independence.
The guilt created
attatches you
to the twisted ways
of life put in front of you.
She is--
She is--

"What is she...?"

Your body runs cold,
ice caresses you neck.
A faint idea,
motivates you on.
An idea, from a puppeteer.

"....She is law..."
"....She is life..."

Swolen tears are now frozen
as you continue believing,
continue playing.
A toy is all you are.

But for you, there is no heart left.
And you can not listen to the wrongs.
All that is heard
is what she tells you...
...what death conveys....

It--
She.
She has blocked all things truth...
Truth only the rains knows,
and has tried to tell.

She is evil