Death by Solitude

BY Kayla ar Baxter

Helen Merle is thirteen years old

Her skin is pale and her eyes are cold

Her body is lanky and her hair is black

And she as the most raggy clothing on her back

Despite her ghostly looks you'll see

She’s not all was she appears to be

Helen Merle is really quite kind

Though some might say she's out of her mind

Helen Merle lives with the five of her brothers

A cat, a dog, a father and a mother

But her dad's abusive and her mum's a junkie

And living with her brothers has made her quite spunky

But Helen Merle would prefer a better life

One without conflict or a daily strife

So by herself, Helen is isolated

And leaves this world gently sedated

She is lead to a room so surreal

Where her bizarre imagination suddenly becomes real

There her mind slowly grows more demented

But can still reflect on the horrors she’s invented

For Helen Merle is an artist of the kind

(Despite the fact of being half-past blind!)

The paintings she paints are of Death and gore

And the writings she writes has ‘em begging for more

Helen Merle isn't one to follow a trend

Even though she hasn't one single friend

For other children tend avoid her, you see

I cannot place why this reason be

For Helen is a lovely child -- full of woe

Daydreaming murders and reading Edgar Allan Poe

'They must be jealous' she doubtly thinks

And further into her mind, she sinks

Being knocked out of though, Helen hears a sound

To her chair, she cannot stay bound

'Round the corner, she catches a whiff so lewd

And confronts the creature, the moster Solitude

She tries to scream but her mouth had dried

She tries to run but her legs had died

She stood there in a silent fright

Hoping to survive, she just might!

Neither had moved, but just stared at the other

There was a small plea for help, she whispered 'mother'

And the creature let a sly smile escape his lips

To her small height, he dips

He opens his mouth but no words come out

But instead a chilly breath sent shivers about

She was painfully cold and out of breath

As Helen Merle fell to her death

Solitude, the monster, let out a sigh

And her knelt by her side and whispered 'goodbye'

Solitude walked away from a place he will not miss

And left Helen alone in her dark abyss

So that is the end of our wretched tale

Her eyes were colder and her skin was more pale

As she laid lifeless upon the floor

She shall be lifted -- nevermore!

Disclaimer: Yes, the last line 'She shall be lifted -- nevermore!' is from Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven, and is the last line of the poem. I thought I'd incorperate Poe in my poem.