Ah, the scent of purity

Hidden beneath battered skin

Cowers, to those obsessed

With breaking the chaste;

Tattered, torn to pieces

A hollow shell, obsidian in the light

Feigns the smile that is no longer;

Sought, but never found

Lost, behind the stench

Of they who dare defile, yes,

Soulless, cold-blooded, they feed

On the raw flesh of innocence

 

©2022 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
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