The Slaughter of Innocence

Grieving through the breathing crevices of my mourning soul,

I propelled through piercing glances of the ones who chose to score their goal.

In the agonising stance of the glaring truth that the society decides to bemoan,

A woman who cries in agonising pain chastising her dignity belies to be a lost cause

Until she becomes a sacrifice that forges to be long gone.

--

Yonder in its benevolence, yonder in its finest allure,

The admonishing glance of lustful stares finds the virtuous beauty,

An object to satiate as its cure.

Blasphemous syllables that slide through the strokes of thin air,

Too hot, too flat, too ambitious, too voluptuous,

These labels often march in their acrostic flair

Scintillating in the divinity of the holy feminine, we worship the goddesses in their eternal light,

Yet behold our stellar with apathy, as the earthly beings of femininity lose their being in plain sight.

--

Striking in their pretentious promises, silent in their responsible acts

The shallowness in their vows performs its role in unambiguous tact.

I wish to believe in the notion that not all men but somehow it is always a man,

Of how inhumanness in its darkest brevity can heartlessly span.

Through the grieving crevices of the piercing ounces of thee,

I bemoaned over the question,

Is there any state, any nation or any city,

Where a woman is breathing without fear to save her dignity?