Defiant Shell

She was just a shell anymore.
The hollow image of a beautiful life
tortured by vivid memories of color,
she walked through the gray mist
of her depression.

Cast from the asylum
when the wellspring of funding
trickled slowly to its death.

Abandoned to time,
it had withered and crumbled.
Save for the Chapel
she lived in theses days.

Wandering the halls
of her tortured mind
had become a loneliness
she could no longer bear.

Leaving the refuge
of the abandoned asylum’s
well kept Chapel.
She made her way
down the long overgrown hill
to the rivers edge, by the bridge
where the dangerous outcast’s dwelled.

Strapping bruits,
all meat and no potatoes.
Just the way she liked them.

A washing by the rivers edge.
She always got clean before getting dirty.
A paradox she did not questioned
for she welcomed the control.

Removing the dirt of depression
revealed the essance of a woman.

Alpha males nearly feral
Vied for the attentions
of the one who came calling
once every month
when she was ripe with scent.

Mindless gladiators pummeling each other
into the sandy beach beneath the bridge. 
The last two standing followed panting
drinking in the perfume, that trailed behind her.

Up up up the overgrown hill side
of the abandoned asylum
into the chapel and the alter of her desires.

On purple satin table cloths meant to honor God
she made love to her demon angles
laughing all the while as she mocked the one
who had stolen her mind and left her a shell.

Empty and devoid of any love for her God.
Every moaning arch of her back
as she writhed in orgasm and ecstasy
was her defiant protest
to what God had taken from her.

As long as she could lead mindless men
into her blasphemous lair, to mount them
on her alter of contempt…
she would mock the God
of her misunderstanding!