Charcoal

Barbaric actions do gravely wound
Sometimes the body. Sometimes the soul.
Scars to the carcass, gagged and bound
Is often one more story told.
Why carcass? You may ask
Look at her, her gashes screamed.
The Relic of a lost battle
Smothered. Dragged. Decayed.
Followed behind, one left alive
His marionette. A Repercussion.
Imagined euthanasia. Or an uproot.
A Phoenix rose instead.
He never knew what Charcoal was
Not even close.
But now he knows asphyxiation
And now he knows Burns.
Humanity faulted Her heinous act
Media ripped her grace.
She reduced herself to ashes
                                                                          To rise again another day.
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                                                                          -The Violet Woman
                                                                           Fragments #10
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