They devoured her
They saw her with greedy eyes and decided to feast
They came upon her suddenly
She in all her glory
They covered in deceit
Wove illusions of inspired beauty
And stole from her
Stole her
In their grasp they ravaged and raped her
Used her then set her out for use
Painted her up then set her upon the table
Her beauty her undoing
Naive of the dark though dark in nature
They ate their fill
Then returned for more
What they wanted they took
What the couldn't take they stole
What they couldn't steal they cut off
She lay there, life blood upon their lips
Gluttony in their eyes, her flesh on their tongues
They blindly suckle
And dare any to tell them otherwise
She is a mother, She was a mother Her children as naive as her
Remain confused
Blindfolded and left in darkness
Attempting to navigate by touch alone
In a world full of pricks and thorns
They still feast upon her
They lick their fingers and praise the chief
They blind their young then feed her to them
So they have no choice but to continue the banquet
They wean her from life
Placed on a pedestal, hung like a rack
They slice off their prime choices and leave her writhing
I cant say I ever knew her, She is a story I hear of in whispers or screams
Written in my flesh yet never translated for me
But still, in all her emaciated glory
She was my mother, and I love her