Grey

Dark grey walls

Drops splatter on the ground

Plop,

Plop

The air grows damp

As the walls wail,

They wail for their freedom

To escape the life they’ve been destined to

The life she’s been destined to

Her eyes grow bleak and lifeless

As she travels through a strangers labyrinth

She knows it’s her duty

The frayed edges of her dress snag

On the sharp betrayals of her surroundings

The betrayals of her own life

Her heart stolen,

Taken from her autonomy

As she’s forced into this

Lonely

Bleak

Dreadful

Life

The moist smell invades her body

Stealing the last piece of her,

Her innocence

And yet as she traverses these halls,

She hears the screams of those

Sentenced to this life before her

Shrieking to escape; to leave

But she’s been shackled to her fate

Puncturing her heart, 

Laughing as it deflates

It’s dark

Her dark, grey walls

And she can’t stop walking.

-The Archer