Martyred
The song of Prudentius eloquent as a dove;
Escapes from her lips in a freedom folk lore’s:
Torn and spiked by iron hooks in Roman pleasure,
Breasts burnt to smoke at the tender age of twelve plus.
Sacrifices to their Gods she would not accept;
Miracle covered her with snow to each ones joy.
On the pavements lay her lifeless body,
Guarded by the evils and the heavenly; Divine.
Picture Prompt Ref:-
"Saint Eulalia"
by John William Waterhouse, 1885
http://www.tate.org.uk/servlet/ViewWork?workid=15983&tabview=image
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