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;
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.
For dignity,she lost
And not an ear was lent.
But,cursed are those souls
For their lust will doom them to death.