Hateful Lust
At the brink of dawn,
In the corner of a dusty room,
Lies a breathing being,
Who's heart is full of shame.
At the time of place,
During her little game,
Anger was turned to violence,
And violence became much more.
It became a hateful lust,
Which consumed the flaming alcohol,
And the broken soul.
It was chase of cat and mouse,
Until they went to a basement.
Who's?
Nobody knows.
The other had trapped in the corner,
And tied her ankles to wrists,
So she couldn't win the non-existent fight.
The person before her beat nearly bloodless,
And stripped her of her clothes.
The stranger took what they had lusted for,
And left without a single good-bye,
Not caring if she lived or died.
She couldn't remember if it had been a man or woman,
But she could barely think.
Her vision blurred from the blood she had lost,
And just before she blacked out,
She swore she saw an angel,
Staring down at her.
Her hair was a long, silky blonde that went to her waist,
Her eyes were a deep mountain purple,
And paled skin like snow white herself.
She felt herself be lifted,
Like she were a feather.
Then all went dark,
As the lights went out,
Like a flame from her hateful lust.