he thought she's a butterfly
when she held the cascading flares
of her little white gown
her blonde hair was the brightest hue
of his grey life
hopping and spinning in her dress
she'd make the flowers grow
in her father's withering world
the crimson of sunsets, roses and clouds;
that's what her favourite colour was
the same colour that dripped
through her slitted throat and bleeding thighs
when her father found her at the end of street
beneath the flickering light of lamppost
3 gunshots and 26 heartbeats
that's what it took for her father
to kill the rapist and tear him apart
contentment and bliss flooded his eyes
as he held his head high with pride
and put around his neck, his jewel and prize
the knot of the death rope and left everything behind
the inhumane world and its humans

~aleesa
__________________
@writersnetwork @miraquill #jewellery #wod #pod