Whispered plea.

Her voice is but a whisper,
Filled with pain and fright,
She knows that what she tells them,
Will never set things right,
No matter how much she begs,
For them to forgive her soul,
They keep on kicking and kicking,
Trying to reach their goal,
Their goal to make the tears fall,
And show that she is weak,
Show that they can always beat her,
But she already knows her future’s bleak,
But they never quite hear,
That almost silent plea,
That comes from her dying heart,
To just set her dreams free,
They never hear any words uttered from her lips,
That might make them stop,
For these words that are whispered,
Would make their cold hearts drop,
“Please take this fading life, with the next of your cruel blows,
Kill the outside nice and quick, just as the inside finally goes,
You will rid me of my pain, Without knowing that you freed me,
For you never won the battle, and never heard my plea,
You will never ever realise, That the way you killed me more each day,
Was exactly what I wanted, And this fear was but a display.”

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