Her beauty was tainted
How many hearts has she broken with no more remorse
Than a lion at the throat of its prey?
The very skin that belonged to her was unflawed,
Yet scarred with the ghosts of the hands of her lovers.
Although an innocent virgin,
Her essence can be felt in the beds of many.
And although honest,
Lies flowed freely from her lips
Every word laced with honey and poison.
For if you heard without hearing,
And saw without seeing,
Then your heart was as good as broken.
For if you thought without thinking and felt without feeling,
Then your soul was as good as shattered
She was a seductress
Her body radiated with unrestrained sensuality
And called without having to speak.
Every curve and every glance guided you into her net,
That would soon envelope you.
But Underneath.
Underneath her beauty and grace,
Lies a different woman,
A different face.
One that radiates darkness and hate.
One that thrives on the tears and the screams of the broken.
Of the damned.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem