by Ashlei Dyane Sobol

I stand alone as I hear the drips of blood flow in the sink. They said she was bled dry. But who will really know her story? She is with us no more. She went to the dark side of paradise. Yelling for someone to tell her story. “Won't anyone tell my story!” she cries out. Night after night this poor damned soul has to wander the dark sides of a place where death hovers over you. Until one stormy night her voice is heard!