Beneath the world of expectation
above the Hells of Satan’s lair
a body lies in mortification
and no one knows that it is there.
A ****** on a frosty evening
of lovely girl with sprightly nature
who’s only sin was of receiving
with evils own collaborator.
Innocence was wholly shattered,
deflowered just for being there,
her body beaten and so battered
and left there dead with just her stare.
Terrified, transfixed, still staring
in that direction from where it came.
A beast so vicious and uncaring,
who treated her with so much shame.
There was no offer of protection,
there was no one to lend a hand.
Just he who caused her such dejection.
Just he who placed her 'neath the land.
This girl of lovely disposition
never had time to say farewell,
was never found by expedition,
just left to rot and left to smell.
She missed a life of exploration
that night he took her life so ill.
Encircled now in forestation
beneath the soil of old land fill.
Her family sought, indeed, still seeking
in hope one day she may be found
and from her grave her soul is speaking
to all who walk above the ground.
One day she may receive response
by someone sensitive to call
someone who walks with such a nuance
that she may indeed perhaps enthral.
But until that time she lies beneath,
between the World and Satan’s lair.
Waiting for that one relief,
that all should know and all might care.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC
Beneath the world of expectation
above the Hells of Satan’s lair
a body lies in mortification
and no one knows that it is there.
A ****** on a frosty evening
of lovely girl with sprightly nature
who’s only sin was of receiving
with evils own collaborator.
Innocence was wholly shattered,
deflowered just for being there,
her body beaten and so battered
and left there dead with just her stare.
Terrified, transfixed, still staring
in that direction from where it came.
A beast so vicious and uncaring,
who treated her with so much shame.
There was no offer of protection,
there was no one to lend a hand.
Just he who caused her such dejection.
Just he who placed her 'neath the land.
This girl of lovely disposition
never had time to say farewell,
was never found by expedition,
just left to rot and left to smell.
She missed a life of exploration
that night he took her life so ill.
Encircled now in forestation
beneath the soil of old land fill.
Her family sought, indeed, still seeking
in hope one day she may be found
and from her grave her soul is speaking
to all who walk above the ground.
One day she may receive response
by someone sensitive to call
someone who walks with such a nuance
that she may indeed perhaps enthral.
But until that time she lies beneath,
between the World and Satan’s lair.
Waiting for that one relief,
that all should know and all might care.
Request permission to use this poem