She weeps in vain
As she sings out the venomous
Affliction in her veins,
The crest of her cry,
The death of her being
Solemnly resonate the
Fatality of her chaste soul,
Her back stripped with
Asphalt are remnant of the
Whisks of yore.
Away she sails
To the land unknown,
Wretched with woe
She wears the skin
Of eternal silence
As the wind blows her away
To the land of her death.
A mind of prongs,
A heart of odium
Lurks every night
Her virgin soul is raped
By soreness of creeping solitude,
Closing eyes her she hides
From that which she fears,
In the thick air she sinks,
Thinking of unsullied breathes
Of a home embezzled by the
Dreaded voyage of adieu.
Her womb grows a dark seed,
Secretly she prays for death to
Awake her when her life is over,
Her brick runny spills to sluice the
Sanctity of the gods she knows,
With her eyes closed she dies
Softly never to breathe again.
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