A Paradise Sepulcher

A promise born, a life designed, To emancipate, to break the bind. But fate dealt blows, parents passed away, Leaving her to shadows, in a world astray. She sells her body, a living corpse, A pretty face, a paradise sepulcher, a tragic force. Uncertainty looms, her future unsure, A womb evacuated, her soul obscure. Loneliness creeps, a dejected soul, Yearning for companionship, a heart that's whole. "I need a child," she cries, "who'll stand by me?" But all have fled, fearing disease's decree. Meanwhile, he seeks to blend, to chill with the bold, A "Jogolo" tagged, making women happy, but growing old. He dupes and uses, but ends up used and worn, A walking corpse, his life misled, his future torn. Both lost, both alone, both searching for more, Their lives a testament to the choices they've explored. Yet, in desperation, she looks up to the skies, Her maker stretches His hands, a rescue surprise.