Poem: Dead Girl Walking

Brought to you by yours truly, summer 2010
And Javamonster
EDIT: The spacing has been messed up, and I'm too tired to battle the HTML.
I intended each stanza to have exactly 5 lines, with an ending rhyme.

Dead Girl Walking

He met her post mortem, after the verdict of a life-long execution:
Sentenced to take the nervous injection,
Numbed with anger, the anesthetic deadly lethal
Her pulse was stopped by distrust’s stinging needle
And she was back brought with electric shock of guilt's appeal

Her eyes blinded to any romantic dreaming, her chest hollow to any intimate feeling
An era later her plaintiff returned, called her at devil’s hour with plaintive appeasing
While another professed his love, and with that word invoked the latent demon legion seized
When on his shoulder she leaned – it was that, faint and paling, she had scarcely breathed
“My dear, all tensions go away, right here,” he sighed, and that night her dead eyes began to bleed

So long since she renounced her faith, and now how had she become unfaithful?
She told each one about the other to avoid the truth that was already shameful
“Maybe,” she lied, and lied, “I’m sorry,” she cried and cried, “whore!” to herself she spat.
Twisted and torn she squirmed like a rat while confused and hurt, away from her each turned his back.
Rejection, rejection, that was her answer, and betrayal as her final act

Wheezing, waning, she sank in the dark to sleep, and felt his phantom arms around her coiling
She stirred, in a wide-eyed trance she heard, downstairs the kitchen knives were calling
Next thing she knows, out to the snows, into the night so cold she had run so far,
Her mind was sore and spinning, ankles chilled and damp and her wrists were raw,
Down the city streets she ran so fast, in all the black window glass, the worst reflection she ever saw

Accidental femme fatale, an Ophelia in reverse, Delilah indeed, she seethed, so well-rehearsed.
Hadn’t she served her sentence, from solitary half-life taken to solitary confinement cursed
Lovesickness like Satan's temptations, a demonic test; relationships a perverted question of whose possession
Better left for dead and never again such a heartless resurrection
Redemption, redemption, no such answer at all to such a hellish romantic equation

(Credit: "Alone" by HolyAnna, taken from DeviantArt)
I will gladly take this down if it offends anyone.