trapped in unwritten consuetude

of beauty,

to impress ogling eyes

as if born to be tied in silk nets,

intricately designed.

“This  fine silk to touch your skin,

 so divine”

she falls for his words,

ignorant in love

of his evil mind.

her spirit ready to bloom

her wings ready to cover the sky

bit by bit the threads are woven

bit by bit the patterns bound

“Ah! Such beauty”

the world sees her as perfect


veiled in silken threads

her bloom spread

only to feel the knots

cut deep into her skin

the silken scars binding

the veil suffocating

“flawless,” they said

unnoticing the veil

of deceit,

of power

of lies

timeless she remained


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