The tears trickled and
she held her head in deep
darkling dread,
her shrunken self hardly
visible under bloody bindings.
——————–
The stinging pain of the lash
and the blood churning brutality
of her tormentors
tempering hatred with terror.
——————–
‘Why curse me with the courage
to counter them?
Look, I’m just a bag of bones
on which they
beat, for their pleasure.
Take me, please.’
She whispered while
————————
Her eyes roved round the cell
of the cellar that was hers,
struggling against the spirit
within and heard the voice of
the vampire who had patched
the pitiless, pummelling
of her loveliness;
“She’ll live – just”.
——————–
The pains striped her and pulsed
and every sliver of her loathed her life;
and her prayer to die unanswered;
and still they planned to lash
more flesh from her fragile form
and they’ll call it the law for they
are cowards and will not hear,
‘That this is monstrous
and
evil
and
so
very
very
WRONG!’
