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!