They swallowed me and spit out.
My pride was dispelled in a cold land.
The tumid persecution with the connivance of rake rampantly exhume my organs.
My fervent desire in extending my hand was ebbing fast.
I’m a feme. I’m at the end of my tether.

They ******* my hands and feet on both edge of the glandola.
I was surrounded by darkness frozen alone.
From night till dawn they flogging me then soak in salty water.
No more grain of hope for me to see the birth of my son.
I can taste no more the honeydew that my husband had brought me.

They will surely lament for me…
They whom I vowed to serve and cherish.

Who wants to indite a poem for me?
Who wants to limn my life story?

My lesion leaked by flies has been dried up.
My body was mortify in shame without any clad.

I’m at the end of my tether.
But…

They will remember me!
They will tell my life story.
They will fight for me!
They, the youth, will cut the Gordian knot!