For Love: Though i wish he would not ask

Women facing sexual abuse while her lover is dead

The frozen shore of glistening alabaster stone
my heart it a-shivers and from my mouth, a moan
arms climb around me, thirsty peach ivy leaves,
retch, shake, scream, a tear heaves
from this adrenaline pumped body i own

and as, in the cold terrain, i am no longer alone
my body, it is entered through my private cone
and this is when i dread the aurora's eves
for on these splendid nights,  my soul leaves
the only thing remaining, my unearthly moan

it is something, to comfortably hate, i have  grown
a sign my body is no longer ****'s and my own
i hear in the awkwardly silenced heaven, **** grieves
this endless tale of sexual abuse, my captor weaves
even drenched in this abhorred sweat and cologne

i can say, surely, and in an agressive tone
that i would relive every night in this artic zone
every night my shame, this vile creature thieves
every night until death my body achieves
just to insure ****'s love in heaven is mine alone.