Ravaged

A cold autumn breeze blew swiftly,
whispering sorrows to the night,
just as tree leaves danced to a dying rythm,
in this evening of red-blood sunset enveloped in fright,
many an event may occur,
and some of us are simple witnesses,
beholding madness taking control,
and grasping its victims with no remorse.
That cold breeze whispered in her ears,
her constitution trembled and gave in to dreadful fears,
those that whipped her mind and thoughts, those that plunged her deeper down,
down to a place in her mind, the one that is not easy to find.
The breeze caressed her white face, her hair swinging here and there,
and just then, a stream of tears made their way out in the open, bursting free,
mourning her sorrow, crying her pain, lamenting every step she did not walk away,
a regret that is now futile, for the damage has been consumed,
transforming her body into the temple of her own disgrace,
the fountain of a pain that will not disappear quite soon.
The dying beams of sunlight ilumminated her face, as if an angel,
casting hues of red colour, invading her pain, emolating her sorrow,
eyes around her would glimpse at her suffering, sliding her out of mundanity,
submerging her broken being and fragile soul,
into a sentiment of horror and self-loath.
The intrusion of blasphemous filth entered within her,
scarring her soul, corrupting her flesh, leaving her torn….. without solace
bringing her down to the domain of sneering disgrace,
the one that stirs the pain and suffering within her.
She felt the perpetrator´s claws running through her with eagerness,
that eagerness that infused terror in her vains,
that eagerness that entered her sanctuary, the centre of her universe,
that eagerness that spoke of scornful words,
and in this wise destroyed her splendour.
The venom provided her with an agonising feeling for life,
and she sensed her life elapsing at the intrussion, her time passing her by,
her consitution shivering, left abandoned,
her wits she found all scattered and her being became no more than just a phantom.
Her eyes searched the pitiful state of her surroundings,
her life was missing and the intruder was not to be found,
and to a pitiful sentiment of dreadfulness she was now bound.

Moscow
25/10/10
RQ