I.
How could you?
who was suppose
to forefend me during climes perilous,
be the author of my woes
How could you…?
II.
You, my father,
stripped me bare
and ravaged my glory with hell’s claw
to satisfy your inane letch.
Wicked?
III.
Wirra! Like a corpse baptized
with swaying- dust,
I am drowning in depression,
for the demise of my virginity
is now a dirge to mourners.
Let me grieve….