Little drops of spit launch from his putrid mouth
That nears the tired girl’s face
To him she is no one
A reject, an outcast, a mistake
His eyes are raging red and bulging
A fuming bull ready to charge
And puncture his prey with his horns
Straight through her bony chest
Her eyes search his face
Looking for a trace of the man she once knew
And the all too familiar face of the Devil himself
Takes shape
Although her arms wrap around her body,
The only embrace she has felt in years,
Her soul is left unprotected
It is marred with crisscross battlescars
That match the ones on her sickly wrists
And her fragile ears are intruded by harsh words
Arrows dunked in poison and aimed with perfect precision
He knows exactly what to say
The demon turns and stalks out of the room
But she is left, still burning in Hell