A/N; So, I recently stumbled upon the Black Swan archive – and surprised was I when I found numerous poems! And, yeah, I wrote my own poem. Here ya go. I don't own Black Swan.
The Swan's Plight
The swan turned me…
into many things.
A lunatic, for one,
it was something that couldn't be undone.
Images, hallucinations: lies fed to me
by the darker side wanting from its prison free.
A murderer… I killed a dancer,
though when I found no body I was deluded the answer.
I was a prostitute in a way,
I sold myself and my body for attention each day.
I saw pictures talk – calling me sweet,
while I tried to ignore them by focusing (and failing) on my heartbeat.
More than not it took my life,
perhaps a good thing, for who would want a mental patient as a wife?
Now I wear my wings, black as night,
waiting for the next one who answers the swan's plight.
. . .
A/N: Please review!