In the darkness
of the night,
the girl sat alone
in the sand pit.
Her hair
in the wind
was whipping
her face with
wild abandon.
Her eyes
seared with fatigue,
but she can't sleep.
There are things to do.
In the chill of breeze,
she plots.
With the tip
of a branch scraping
against the sand.
Nobody was watching,
except the teddy bear
with its eyes of beads
gleaming in the moonlight.
They were
never blinking,
never showing
any hint
of betrayal.
On its face,
is always a
thread of smile.
It was
not mourning
for the part
of her
that died.
Blissfully oblivious,
it was,
to the horror
that it is witnessing.
The ugliest expressions
of arrogance and hatred,
of contempt and lust.
Something stronger
is resurrecting from
the carcass of the Past.
Vermin
that grows from
the rotting flesh
of a fallen angel.
In its womb,
the devil's spawn
decreed that all
all imperfections
to be torn away
and buried beneath
a new facade.
The Strength
that consumed Love,
flows in her blood.
The sand
barely holds
her stumbling feet.
But in that
purge of power,
she is compelled
to proceed.
May this be
the point of her
downfall.
May she succeed.
Now, to begin.
The sharp point
of the dagger
pierces through
the cotton of
the teddy bear.
The silence
of the night
weigh upon her
decision.
It knows too much.
But it is all she has.
