Powerful poem from Hasty



She fell from hands she couldn’t see

She was being fed to monsters

Left for…

Not quite dead because


What’s the fun in that?

As demons swarmed around her

Leaving trails of venom

Mixed with blood upon her soul

She concentrated on the pain

As their poison fangs sunk deep

Aware that the initial sting

Would lead to an aching agony

Paralyzing her moments here

And perhaps all her tomorrows too

But it was this slow torture of sorrow

The throbbing discomfort of grief

That awoke the warrior in her

The girl who survived, not once

But countless times before

The now a woman who fights

With her heart well-guarded

She taunts the monsters

Who try stealing her light

One nasty demon at a time

Using their own poison

To tranquilize her fears

And then slowly slaughtering

Every single one of them

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