The Diva is doomed, revised

The diva has no hope.

The diva smiles for the crowd but, below the act, she wants to scream aloud. 

The diva wants to let the monster out. 

Below the diva's stage, her foundation is crumbling.
The diva covers her pain and troubles with makeup and band-aids.

The diva is now haunted by her mistakes, 

yet continues to fail her loved ones.

The diva's unrelenting ability to destroy is her downfall.

The diva surrounds herself with friends and emotion,on a crowded stage of strangers. 

The diva always fears time spent alone, for there the truth finds her.
The diva forgets how to bleed, but she can show you her scars.
The diva never knew how to love. All that beats is her broken heart. 
The diva sings no melody, but has her own tune and march. 
The diva has discovered true loneliness though she hides behind a glass of wine.
The diva never keeps time, too busy in the limelight. 

The diva is tortured by the demons she has created.
The diva has no room for clothes in her closet, full of skeletons.
The diva has compromised her life, her emotions, her relationships.
No script will save her speech when all charisma is sucked away from her eyes.
She will discover the bottom of the empty bottle.

No role will spare her from real emotion.
No revival will save the diva's soul.

The diva is doomed.