Game over

She, who once was,

Now lies dead in a pool

Of her own blood, 

Killed of her own volition. 

She, who is dead,

Ripped her own heart 

Out of the golden cage 

The world had created for her. 

She died a slow, agonizing death, 

Watching the lifeblood spilled 

Onto the fertile ground, a deathly cradle

From within which she must rise anew.

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.