End of Her

Flowers weren't scattered on her path,
The seas were dark with wrath,
How often could she hold it back?
The older the wound, the harder they crack!
What did she gain by that silence?
A handful of accusations and violence!
This was her end, they nearly thought,
Her mind and her heart always fought!
To stay or to leave, there wasn't any choice,
Her every guilt free tears made them rejoice!
She smiled for one last time,
Before they committed the crime,
She was freed from their torture,
They became her life's author,
Flowers were now scattered on her grave,
She would have lived, if she was brave!





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