Concerned and courageous
This thistle-thorn being has needlessly, needfully been

Maniacally left to their own troubled devices, seethes to breathe and to finally find a way out from

This cursed and righteously agonised mess
Earth-shatters none too gladly, tip-toes above courtesy of
this silver-tongued, carefully gloved individual

Distancing them-self and digging this perfectly sordid person their very own

Three-foot deep well-wisher’s hole, he whispers to lean
Drops a wild violet-coloured transatlantic rose and poses dastardly on over

The about to be broken solid bones of her wasted being
Blood bubbles to bargain and beg
right by this shameless soul, holds no real reasoning

And he smirks to comfortably smile and kneel, settles to see
Her inevitable demise take to seed
All. Eyes. On. Crucified. She.

And the resting place will never be seen…

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