Vanity tickles down her cheek
red eyes swollen lips
Abused.
Holy ground punctured with hell
bloody nails and seeming wounds
Raped.
Gusty wind gropes at her rope
crushed neck and blue skin
Murdered.
A blade hides in my grip
Silent steps follows new victim
It's you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your work actualy reflects th SA society whch is named as number 1 for rape cases.