Martyria

Objectified and almost erased
She stand’s alone
surrounded by attacks
No gentle movement
but organized hate
They are yealing out loud
Throwing sticks on fire and crowd
Burning, unable to run
Tight rope chewing on wrist, a gun
A couple of minutes more
and she will no longer exsist

Flames payes the sky a visit
orange melts into the blue
Traveling spirits let go too
She’s awake again
watching over you

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