CAMELOT FANTASIES

Wilted away like the breathe of life
Was squeezed of every ounce of oxygen
Wounds were weeping with pus of infected sores
Confused by the poisonous infections
Clarity became empty in it seemingly void less pit
In her debilitating state she was still planning to even the score
Befuddled yet contemptuously conniving a calculated perfection
She worked off the fumes of avarice and greed
She was not a fore gone conclusion
Wiping away the blood that stained her outfit
It was the fight of the fittest
Inert from her dubiously disillusioned state
Every ounce of her ached
Deep down she knew she had to escape
The hounds of hell that nipped at her heels
It was time to go
Yet atwixt these last moments
Shocked and afraid that a torrent of emotional flood gates
We’re raring to push her past the point of no return
Or fall into the abyss

~ Divine