The Outcast

Cold and hard like Winter steel,
Tempered by a planet sunken, sallow,
Oh jaded, wasted youth, they tsk,
Knowing eyes rolling in bovine heads
As they down their shots of Apathy - with just a splash of Fear.
Pools of liquid night, her eyes
Swallow the light, the false platitudes.
Beneath the din and clamor of the quickening World,
Spirits call weakly to her assailed ears,
Entreating, weeping.
Her hands tied by a world that will not listen,
She cries in silence perfect, deep.
Slipping sleeping through Reality's cracks,
She comforts forgotten angels
Who, keening, claw at blackened, twisted wings.
Oh irony! She must escape her body
To truly feel, to be felt -
To hear the rough and raw tattoo
Of the drums that keep the Universal Beat.
Shedding flesh and bone and blood -
The shrieking, clutching, burning World,
She slips, ethereal, mysterious,
Darkly glittering and soft
To realms apart -
Outcast no more.