Monday, 22 December 2014

The dark hour

The girl who just grew up
they held her hand,
held her hand in scandal.
Nobody said a word this dark hour.

She laughed and smiled and dandled in joy
while his hands impelled,
her frown, Oh! the frown of the 5 year old.
Alas! the father never stopped this dark hour.

He threw the glass in inflame,
pulled her in with a warrant.
Smelling of stench revenge
he ravished his own woman this dark hour.

Then came the old woman,
her life sated
but the young blood lascivious,
not leaving no cow, no woman, no new, no old this dark hour.

And in this hour
no woman was left,
nor untouched neither unattended.
In this dark hour
black seemed the only light.