The rain strikes the sharp jagged window panes
As she huddles in a corner of the darkening room hurting full of shame,
The probing fingers of early evening frost play a game of chess
And invade the unprotected battlements of her frail body with success.

Outside,
The lightning bares its hideous teeth with savage intent
And the wind sings a song without hope.

The storm gathers its troop for the carnage of fright
That it has lustfully planned for this nightmarish night,
People can be heard running outside on the wet pavements,
Humans hunting for shelters beneath gravestones.

Inside,
The decaying boards of the room reek
With insidious desires.

She can sense the lower depths of pollution
That surround her but nobody will ever execute a solution,
This child of mankind will be shrouded in a grim reality
Which is preached as a sincere morality.

*Within,
Even though her soul is sore,
She will never be vanquished by these feeble man made forces.