Memories of My Friend

The screams of pain I still hear,
Pleads for mercy that were all but ignored,
Her eyes dark and wide with horror and fear,
These things in my memory have been stored.

Bleeding from both wounds and her heart,
From her, her body was taken and used,
Like an object which no feelings or emotions can impart,
All this so the Devils servants could be amused.

The broken bones, the cuts and burns,
They cause pain that she cannot feel,
Because to ravage her body men have taken turns,
Now only the emotional injury can she feel.

For a time she lived in fear and pain,
Scared into hiding she shut herself away,
I often wondered how she remained sane,
For now the devil's game she had to play.

Now she sleeps in safety and peace.
News of her death I have found.
Now the agony of her peril for her has ceased.
But of her cries I still hear the sound.

© Victoria Brooks, 2009.