Her Duty

September 11, 2014

Intermissions between thoughts and distractions

Pulsing rhythms rolling over the skin

Marching through the valley of decaying innocents

One foot after the other

She is a dead woman walking

A mumble of secrets pasted

Like a glass window you can see her heart beating

Thumping behind her ribcage for all to see

Horrified, terrified, corrupted and crucified

A concubine sold to the highest bidder she must bend to his every wish

She will love him

Not out from the heart but out of duty

She knows that years of naive wonder are behind her

She is the butterfly who will never fly

She is the cloud that will never be images from the imagination

And all the while he'll thinks she's in love

He'll believe her smiles

He'll seek her at night

But for now

In a gown of white

In front of a sea of eyes

Her father gives the bride

And a twisted fairy tale will begin its rise



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