Beauty and the Beasts
She was born pure,
Innocence that cleansed hearts.
So fragile was she,
Fragrant blooms she caressed .
But,was her life tragic as well.
The garms, a sheild from her expiration; to the core she learnt.
As the sun fell down,she retraced her path;
Still smiling.
Then, ragged were her clothes.
Bruises–in power to cripple.
She was shattered and dazed .
A hundred times her wrist bled
And no more laughter heard.
But, they still suave with all defrence.
Whilst she lay in bed,weeping in pain,
Fighting a battle with life,which she knew no more about.
Her silence,
For dignity,she lost
And not an ear was lent.
But,cursed are those souls
For their lust will doom them to death.

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