The Rape (The Tragic Epic)
Her clothes were torn like paper
Claws dug her skin shedding blood
And she was nailed to the earth
Flesh and bone weak like water
With grip as tough as leather, the foreigner entered
He was not welcomed like dew on a parched flower
It was beautiful for him, but ugly for her
Sex was a pleasing pain, sex was like a storm
Her day turned into an eclipse of darkness
Like day merges into night
With clouds swimming the sky
Happiness burnt into ashes of sadness
Her sky cried fierce raindrops
Tears meandered like poisonous snakes from her eyes
That blazed with the horror for him she despised
Her cry like the rain that never ceased
With the wind whipping her wrinkled sea to be rebellious
And shuffling of trees not from a snoring breeze
But from winds within her like a harshful sneeze
The gossiping trees bent in the oppression
And her wail was a silence of agony
With the roar of thunder crashing and crackling
Like from the beating of drums of a moanful orchestra
Her melody echoed her tragedy
The darkness was a vast forest of coldness
With flashes of lightning like vines forked from her clouds
As fast as the blink of an eye, cameras flashed the night
The starless jungle like a sea of blackness
He kept on moving violently against her body
She was caged helplessly by his hands
Whilst he was inside of her lands
Her thoughts wandered lonely as a cloud
She wished to be an emperor of the violet sky
The wish to be as free as a bird
Navigating the winds with huge, canvas, umbrella sails
Casting shadows on earth under a candle’s eye
Her thoughts as unreal as a dream
And like the horizon so distant
Her life would never be the same and
Never merry like a day in spring
He got up satisfied, the storm had ended
Like someone broke the drumsticks of her orchestra
Like someone broke the bulbs of her flashing camera
Squeezed the raindrops from her clouds and killed her strong winds
He walked away leaving her world in ruins
With boats like dead crabs on her shores and crippled trees
And her moonlight laced on her beaches of ashes
From a ghostly moon that carved a white home in her gloomy sky
Her moon was the wreckage phantom like a sinking ship
Sinking within the increased intensity of light
As morning grew burning out the stars; her night lamps
And from cracks in the clouds, sunlight like the tap water dripped
The Rape was over and life was not worth living
Why should the sun walk the day?
Why should the moon walk the night?
She was like a plant in barren soil growing
She remembered the act that withered her like age
Are we on this earth to suffer and die?
Can we live on this earth without a cry?
Life was unfair towards her
Her faith in life was a beacon flickered by winds of doubt
Why should each colourful flower blossom with a smile?
Why winds like sculptors used spades to shape clouds sailing by?
Her earth now bore footprints of a murderer
Life was no longer sweet like a pinch of sugar
Beauty was ugliness and light was darkness
Like an irony; to be was not to be
So life was as sour as a pint of vinegar
The longest rope has an end, like very road
The rape drowned her in a paradox; more life, more death
Rather to live with the rape, she wanted to die
To die before the storm in her life had occurred