Silver flutters of silken hair,
Elongated plains of buttery skin,
Her luscious lips tempt men and dare
The powerful and mighty to gravely sin.

Her heart as sheltered as a tomb,
Sensation stirring in her womb,
She felt the whispers of a secret
As her memory conjured images of bodies on velvet.

No pleasure derived under sheets of ebony,
Her mind rejected any talk of destiny.
The pain she embraced, a darkness falling
Her dreams, a reprise from night terrors calling.

He grabbed her hand and forced her down,
To take what he believed would serve the crown.
Her virtue shattered, tatters of the innocence of childhood;
How could anyone believe his falsehood?

The featherlight weight of her tethered to her mare;
She a slave to the master of gin,
They together fled to escape his lair,
Completing the exile of her kin.