The Cost of Blind Silence

Through wearied eyes and obscurely reflected,
precious souls bitterly shaded with strange desire,
of these has none been so sorely affected,
but a child left stripped of youthful fire.

Between lowly sighs this loss is detected,
behind silent touches though briefly relayed,
a woeful tale of sweet chastity ejected,
replaced by hopes of maturity parlayed.

What strain of evil has dare connected,
taken undue liberty to pillage this pure?
Which trappings dangled, what rewards expected,
hold this maiden essence so vilely secure?

Weight of early burdens have harshly subjected
these fragile lives to jagged grief,
leaving hollowed, unripe vessels infected,
withheld of apology, yearning relief.

Paled with premature sadness most willfully collected,
our pixie unawares are beguiled most obscene,
not foe but friend has oft directed,
this acrid villainy on creatures serene.

Lost twilight beings with conscience neglected,
having tamed faux suits of tenderness well,
envisioned among peers as firmly respected,
shield deepened scars where madness does dwell.

Among even routine are these tenders selected,
Betwixt sleeping and play are they found,
in a moment beyond, none have ever suspected,
fair have vanished to foul in the wake of pain’s sound.

Reluctantly dimmed, their gleam frantically objected,
under rage as loathsome demons enthrall,
to survive not surpass, virtue never corrected,
passion forever lost, dry sorrow borne by all.

Do we suffer this malice, can it never be deflected,
our prodigy perceived as expendable prey?
We must open our mouths leaving pride unprotected,
for their lives are a ransom we cannot repay.