every time
i begged
for mercy,
i was whipped
with
already
bloodied chains.
every time
i begged
for grace,
my cries
were
only met
with scorn
and hate
i could never
contemplate.
i was never wanted.
i was never planned.
and yet,
here i unwaveringly
and unwillingly
stand.
martyred,
tortured,
used,
bruised.
for what
is my life
if not to be
used as
the first
lamb
to the
slaughter.