She is what she is … or is she, indeed?
She’s perplexed, befuddled, embroiled
Lost her mind along enmeshed journeys
She belongs, does she not to this world?
Is she real or a trickster, a fraud inside?
Not knowing her mind, too caught up in lies
Or perhaps, revealing her open wounds
You win some, you lose some, just look in her eyes
She’s not without fear though she’s scared of the thrill
The rollercoaster won’t come to an end
She writes her life’s story in ink, so black
You may wonder how her thoughts are penned
Innocence seen, and innocence gone
A fight in a nightmare; she holds her breath
The howls can be heard from far away
Will she ever return from the brink of death
You know her, you don’t, you think that you may
She’s a friend, a soldier, blood-kin
She lives or she dies; knowing the shadow side
Unknown, she wears her chameleon skin