A Disturbed Calming Comfort Poem by Jennifer Batch

Your sickness would feast upon her soul
Consuming, controlling, confusing, slowly killing her within
Turning her heart to darkness filled with fear
Turning her heart to stone
She was so young
Like a lamb led to the slaughter
Your sacrificial lamb
The one paying for your sins
The one living with the pain
Living with the scars burned deep into her soul
A soul that screams out for answers
Answers that will never be known
A soul that screams out for revenge
Screams out for her own salvation
Screams out in search of sanity, clarity
Your touch upon her skin still lingers
Like a rotting, decaying corpse
It sends torment straight to her very core
Her own nails claw, tearing, ripping into her flesh
She must feel the pain of the sacrificial lamb
The one you slaughtered and feasted upon
The one paying for your sins
Once innocent, now her heart has been turned cold
So cold, cold as the black dead of night
Cold as the black onyx strung around her neck
That brings her a calming comfort
Such a disturbed calming comfort
It's all she's ever had, all she's ever known