She stands alone in wait
On the day that everyone else scatters
They run with fear of the symbol
And what it might mean
Thirteen is just a number
She finds hope in its meaning
Will she find love, fear or maybe despair
She seemingly doesn’t care
For she holds no fear
She is aware that what will be, will be
There will be no escape
Maybe solace in the end
When she realizes her fate
A tear-distained
Rolls down her scarred face
As she awaits the grim reaper to take her from this place
She fights not as she knows her battle is lost
She knows one day she will be back again
At which time she’ll be the one in charge
The Lonely©
Copyright 2015, 2018
By Felina Silver Robinson
The Writings of Felina Silver Robinson 