My pen bleeds but won't be silent ,
It is as an arrow in the archer's hand,

Another sacrilege has been committed,
Another wreckage has been wrought,
A daughter of the soil has been violated,
Cudgeled, battered, smitten and vitiated,
Subjected to agony such excruciating,
And left in a condition greatly debilitating,
She fought but lost to Azrael, the wicked.

The perpetrators are out there on the soil,
Elsewhere looking for another one to spoil,
Another one to violate; soil in her own blood,
Could it be the girl whose breast has just bud,
Or...