The flickering light at the candle's wick.
Is blown out by teh wind like a it, soft and quick.
Engulfed in the images of choldhood past.
Praying out loud that this nausea won't last.
The hairs on your body stand out from a chill.
As result of a scream that sounds out loud and shrill.
Your cool beaten body lies sprawled on the floor.
You never dreamed of seeing that carcass once more.
No remorse or pain, shown on his face
Just a slight satisfaction from choosing your fate.
What a horrible memory of your last night awake.
As those who ignored, now come to help too late.
Your body is cold and your heartbeat has slowed.
From the impact of taking all of his blows.
Who would remember they would all forget.
Of a girl who died slowly, without a father's regret.
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