Fractured innocence
The midnight hour,a lonely road
She walks alone
A ping she hears- it's from her phone:
"Where are you?"Mum asks in a worried tone.
"Almost there",she texts, moving fast,
Not caring how much time has passed.
Soft music hums within her ears,
The flicker of street lights appear.
But then she hears the steps draw near-
Her pulse quickens, replaced by fear.
"Is someone behind?" she whispers low,
Her heart begins its anxious flow.
She starts to walk, her pace is swift,
The night grows darker as shadows shift .
It cloaks the world in a heavy veil,
Her safety now begins to fail.
"Wait!"-a voice, it chills her spine,
Sweat beads down, she's out of time.
Her hope dissolves like fading light,
She turns, trembling, in the night.
A shaggy man with a gleaming knife,
A cunning grin-he stalks her life.
He rushes close, a predator's grace,
Ready to steal her last embrace.
"Leave me!" she pleads, as he grips tight,
No one to help in the hollow night.
Her screams are lost, her cries ignored,
He drowns her soul wth violent force.
Into the bushes, he's pulled her aside,
Beats her, ripping her clothes with his hollow pride.
So much has happened, yet worse to come-
Her nightmare has just begun.
He tramples her, a fragile bloom,
Crushing petals, sealing doom.
Her bruises spread, her body torn,
Her mind so hurt, her soul worn.
The monster knows his ways too well,
A secret crime, no one to tell.
There she lies, limp , watching his knife-
He's ready now to take her life
She begs with hands that bleed and shake,
But mercy's something he won't make.
A flash of steel, her stolen breath,
She meets her end in silent death.
He flees, his guilt tucked deep inside,
His manly pride a hollow lie.
And there she lays, the forest still,
The waning moon, her final will.
Her rosy cheeks will blush no more,
Her life erased, her grace sore.
A senseless death, a cruel hand,
The night keeps secrets, as it planned.
The monster shall not meet his fate,
Her family mourns, forever late.
The midnight hour, a lonely road,
She lays alone, her story told.
The broken phone again it rings:
"Where are you?" the message clings.
Copyright ©
Hazy Daisy
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