Depredation of truth
She was molested, she was raped,
She still remained victim of society's hate.
She remained confined behind locked doors.
She wasn't that cheerful girl anymore.
She was living, yet a corpse, a "walking" corpse if you may.
Her parents cursed her, questioned her existence,
Her friends of humble beginnings, nullified her presence.
Her lover chose not to hold her hand no more, lest he will be ashamed.
Her character was questioned, a slut she was named.
She sits by the window and ruminates about that fateful night. When she was mercilessly ravaged
And her weakened body could no longer fight.
Shivers still run down her spine with the thought of those eyes,
Hungry with lust, an atrociously wicked demon in disguise.
He had peeled off her clothes, snatched away her innocence ,
While she screamed and struggled, hoping someone would come to her defence.
Her screams went unanswered , she was left in a pool of blood.
The beautiful flower was uprooted, stamped and thrown in the mud.
The wounds of her body have started to heal.
Yet her soul is numb, no emotions, no feel.
The heart still wounded by the abuses hurled at her,
Was it the rapist, the society or her dear ones who made her life bitter?