Sweaty palms firm,
Against cold glass,
From her coveting face,
Redder than reddest rose,
Yet they know not of her existence.
So many frightful screams go unheard,
So many burning tears go unseen,
While the harsh spotlight beams down,
She continues her attempts in vain,
Fists forcefully banging,
On the unwavering window,
Lying just before her eyes.
Each blow causes a new wave of pain,
The blood oozes casually from her body,
Her hands are torn and raw,
From the harsh beating they've endured,
And yet she notices not anymore.
She tries to recall what she looked like,
Before she began this frivolous game,
She remembers not how her skin looked,
Uncoated in her crimson defeat,
She has only one thing left in her sight,
Her longing for companionship prevails,
She will achieve this goal,
Or die in the process of trying.