Her Damnation


Deep sitted in the cushion
No time for unseen motion
She stands, her posture suggesting caution
Her face, like a child’s had no distortion
Only an apparent slide of lotion
Miserably she mixed herself a concoction
Her bursts, her belly, the doctor’s information
All ascribing to her oncoming digression
She was pregnant but without any enticing emotion
No man, no husband to share in her ordination
Like a frail chameleon she shivers in trepidation
DamnationAmid all sorts of confusion
She lifts up the syringe, gives in to an infusion
Her concoction tops it to complete the diffusion
The sedation was no antibiotic, rat poison is no concoction
A self initiated onslaught due to an unwanted implantation
An indelible mark of an unplanned suicidal mission,
Was her cold figure lying there in absolute destruction
A figure subject to an obvious investigation
It was her own, her own DAMNATION



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