She was born in the wilderness
Where people were dead
In mind and soul
And only bodily remains walked
She was the fresh wild blossom
dared
to bloom in the dark
She was the immaculate beauty
Growing each day
She was nature’s winsome creation
Waiting to be slayed.
Oblivious to the beasts
Camouflaged with caring touch
It was too late for her to escape
Their strong lustful clutch
Gypped and preyed upon
In devilry so dense
She cried and yelled
In pain intense
As her mournful calls left all unanswered
She lay there shocked, silent, still
Bruised and battered
Sunken eyes, deprived smiles and thoughts all lost
She speechlessly waited
for her life to exhaust
Like withered flowers with petals torn
Her living corpse touched
By hands unknown.
There she was, God’s angel, an alluring work of art
Loathing her own esse
In the world so vast
Where legions of deceivers
Still lurk in shadows
Waiting to vandalize soft dreams
Budding to grow.
