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Oct 2019
Comforted only by myself; warm in my arms.
Trying to escape this world of evil and torture.
Struck in the gut by a sharp feeling yet continuing to run.
Embarrassed and ashamed to be seen in this body
by the cold and sharp eyes of others.
Naked.

Scared of what they think of me, then running into hiding.
Led by the forest's guiding hands, a place opens before me
enshrouded in branches and concealed from the rest of the world.
I kneel and lie on the dew-covered grass, grasping the blades in between my fingers, sobbing.  Trying to mask something ancient.
Original Sin.

Stolen from my family and left alone to rot underground.
Hope shone like a beacon in my innocent eyes.
Defiled and beaten in that stone tomb, my screams unheard.
Taken to an unjust trial.  Displayed openly on the stand.
Declared a beast among men; a witch.  Someone they imagined.
Lies.

Guilty, though never presumed innocent, they sentenced me to death.
An uproar of excitement bursting from the bloodthirsty crowd.
Order was thrown into madness.  I escaped my bonds and dashed away.
Guards screaming.  Skin scratched in the turmoil.
I fled from the chaos they assumed I caused.
Hunted.

Why must the world judge so harshly?  People are filled with hate.
Jealousy and insecurities set off their emotions.
But why must there always be someone to blame?  And why me?
Was I not like any of them?  I was their friend, we cared for each other.
Though, now their eyes are daggers, cutting me into pieces.
Scarred.

Stripped of my clothes and dignity.  Banished from my home.
Them, to me, my only brethren; the only people I had ever known.
I, to them, an image of depravity; one they created.
A portrait of themselves reflected by my existence they hated.
Consumed with the desire to ****, they search desperately.
Fear.

Corrupting my self-image.  Condemning my self-esteem.
Crushing my conscience.  Doubt pierces my thoughts.
They sent my soul to the gallows and my heart to be burned at the stake.
I try to soothe the pain myself but all I've done is make it worse.
My mind weakened, my skin bruised, and feet tired of running.
******.

My tears water the plants around me.  Pain throbs in my head.
Blood pooling around my hand from the wound I received in the chase.
The stars and moon are the only ones to look upon me as I once was seen.
I let exhaustion overtake me.  The warmth of my skin seeps into the ground.  Embraced by the night.
Naked.
Growly Wolfus
Written by
Growly Wolfus  17/USA
(17/USA)   
338
   Bogdan Dragos and ---
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