Poor Lavinia
Blood is flowing out of your mouth
Like a river from Hell
Your arms are leaf less
Like a dead tree in winter's frost
Sweet, soft, white hands
Severed by two heartless demons
Hands as pure as an angel's wings
Thrown away as scraps to Cerberus
There are bruises and scratches on your face
Stained with blood, sweat, and tears
Marks created by two ravenous predators
Who love the destruction of innocence
Lavinia, you did not deserve this pain
You who was once pure and clean
Now you are a symbol of hate and destruction
An example of violence, you have become