Destroyed

There was once something so pure and perfect

Untouched by the tunnel of darkness

And soft without any certain hardness

A soul that in our world had wrecked

She was blank, just like a canvas

And the world was her only painter

That would always be a quiet stranger

Who destroyed her lovely palace

With his cruel touch upon her cheek

Who made the soul to be so weak

Where nobody could have the power to avoid

The beautiful, blank canvas to not be destroyed.

 

“You can chain me, you can torture me, you can even destroy this body, but you will never imprison my mind.” – Mahatma Gandhi

Love, D.

 

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