She stands upright in walking death,
Eyes blind to the living and cast aside,
Her heart still beats and she takes breath,
But the soul’s feelings is gone off to hide.

Her steps move her across the street,
To where some man then takes her for a ride
She takes breath and her heart will beat,
But there is no touching the cold inside.

Rumpled, bruise, tattered and now ripped,
One foot before the other carries on,
Body forgot and mind rough stripped,
What will be will be and what done is done.

Cluttered room on dirty mattress,
She mingles her blood with insanity
And rides deeper into darkness
And further away from reality.