Martyr in the Mirror

Those bags under her eyes
That tarnished complexion
Is it not obvious?

The sparkle is gone
The bounce has left her
The shine is absent

Those strained eyes have faded
That lackluster manner
Is liberation gone?

The tears never stop
The pain is endless
The need is nonstop

With one wish she whispers into the dismal abyss that has became her life
“If I must endure this torment, let him painless.”