Sunday, 17 March 2013

Broken


There, she lays, broken she lays
Crying she lays
Bloody, she cries, help me!
Tears she cries, tears.
Desolation, deprivation; innocence… stolen

There she lays, quickens, curses… sobs.

A chill wind like a knife, the knife
That spliced her heart
That cleft.
The intrusion, the scars, the shadows

There be the moon, solemn, a witness, but silent
As silent as she who lays, who cries
Who shivers in the bounds of violation
Without a voice

There, she lays, broken she lays
Crying she lays
Bloody, she cries, help me!
Tears she cries, tears.
Desolation, deprivation; innocence… lost

She was a child, a child she was
And now
Thrust into cold arms, maturity
Tainted, impure; so much like the truth
The wretched truth
Indisputable, and yet, unchallenged

In the cold she lies by herself
Afraid, lonely but angry
At herself; in the darkness
The promise of life, stolen
The promise of love, beaten to a pulp
In an act of consummation
Her resolve, her life

Scattered in the wind, her life
A seed, withered
She lays in the dark and she hates
Inviting, delighting, she hates smiles
And flowers

There, she lays, broken she lays
Crying she lays
Bloody, she cries, help me!
Tears she cries, tears.
Desolation, deprivation; innocence… buried

A single tear on a silent prayer
Shining through midnight masses
Down she goes, her soul, extinguished
Crushed

She cannot fight, her trust
Cannot form the words, her lips
Her eyes can never comprehend
Silence damned silence!
Damned god awful ringing silence; loud, deafening, a roar of the ocean
And still she lays, picks herself up
Her pride demolished
Her heart, shattered like an ice shard

She feels cold, but it is hatred; and fear
Aye, the fear that makes her double over in terror
To dry wretch; her last human act
Before she becomes a machine
To draw a line
To her destruction
When nobody can look her in the eyes
And tell her the truth.