Her eyes tell a story only one dares to hear.

Her cavernous eyes sink deep into her skull.

Her eyes have turned to cries and are no longer shperes.

The raging fire once inside has simmered down to a dull.

Her body has turned to a pile of bones,

they ring like shackles as she walks.

At the beginning his intentions were unkown,

He never realized he'd be opening pandoras box.

Her skin is rough and bruised,

filled with half recovered wounds.

He never liked being accused,

He told everyone she was fine nd thats what they assumed.

He's the one who did this to her.

He's the one who blames it on the liqueur.