Trodden Souls

She did not bleed

Yet why did she feel so beaten?

Perhaps, deep down, the depths of her heart had been trodden

Trodden by someone she never wanted to permit

To ravish her indecently, oh! So vulgarly.

 

She met herself for the hundredth time,

The mirror painted the same shades

The moist eyes, the slender fingers, the blooming bosoms!

She had veiled to keep unogled

By the thirsty eyes she met

For the one she wished to hold and let herself be held

Like an untouched flower, 

Whose delicate petals desired a stem to stand with a head held high.

 

Oh! How the eyes she had blindly trusted had deceived her

How the heart she had believed to be a temple had usurped her.

She screamed for acceptance and was given a deaf ear

She yearned for respect and met  eyes showering repugnance.

 

Her heart bled as did she.

The flower wilted as the eyelids shut

Whose failure was it?

The one who had failed to be forgiven or the hundreds who failed to forgive?

Those hundreds who had the same chapter in their books

Who grinned as their unabashed eyes reminisced.

 

Her corpse turned to flames as the standing corpses watched her

Ashamed at their failure to save yet another weak soul

Commit that the same story their hearts had shielded

And will shield a lifelong.

Once again they turned their backs and extolled

To merge with the blends of purity glistening among the stains of blarney.