She was back home, from the dingy streets, the bright lights, and those slavery eyes that fed on this world's most pride position : Money. Home was just a word though, just a word, But it only held meaning only to those whose souls felt really safe. Whose really did was a question that dug up deeper than the core; The core of the earth. It was hard to fathom the pain, The grudge and the sadness that her soul felt. The shoulders that carried this pain, Where under the delusions of the world. The world that portrayed love and candy so sweet, Was bitter, hollow and grave inside. Its's streets were covered with blood, with lust And desires so selfish that made insects crawl upon bare flesh. She was one of them, Who was crawled upon by insects, Whose flesh had been eaten, Leaving her soul bare and cold. She covered herself with feathers, And wiped her blood with stories of God. The God who was once a lie, Was now a truth so pure she could hardly contain. She wished to scream and tell the others, that such a truth provided comfort. Life was more than a punishment but a test, To see who testified against his greed. To see who could see what laid beyond, Beyond what was known to Man.