She's not the perfect
But great is her struggle to overthrow the imperfect
A little love was enough to boost her up
But you gave her the iron cuffs
She sought to belong
But you kept her beyond
You decked her with criticism
But no worries, she is no stranger to your prisons
Source of the image
Her present worth is little in the balance
But her fate is with the palace
You praise her back
And yet you scorn her psych
Behind you said she's the best
But to her face, you called her a mess
Suffering and smiling, she tried but failed
Each day saw her fade
Yet you never cared a damn
She drowned in hell but you kept your calm
A little love only
And she'd have served wholly
But the relationship was more of a slave
Eternally indebted to her master
A las she was broken
Weighed down with the unspoken
Picking up her very own pieces
She beheld the Balm and the spices
Now her mind she has placed in garrison
Awaiting a trial for treason
By and by her case shall be struck out
And the judge preside as she seldom pout...
...For now I remain silent
To avoid accusations from the parliament
And save my ink
For the next pin