THE MAIDEN PLEA

I was raped at six
The skyward pool of blood from my thighs
Rents the air of wanton men
Setting ablaze their desires despite
The moan of Rachel I raise for three years
My legs where spread further for deeper dig.
I lost countless orgasms
As the most reverends took turns on me,
Holding my innocence captive of prejudice
My senses were armoured for revenge
Then I traded my soul
Asking for nothing less but blood!
Blood of their own innocent loins.

**
Now my vagabonds cruise their reins
Though not remembering my years of shame
The inflicts more pains as my lechers
And crusade the chanting of my promiscuity
Again I will become my beauty victim.
Why did nature write my story this way;
That thus far my fifty-seven years
Of passion throes is my ties cravings?
Chei! My shame is my grave
While I live, I need no burial
I need no blood pool downward
All I quest now is something more,
More than revenge; that's love.

***
This is my history
Story of mortals greed on my horny
I am Nigeria; blindfolded war whore
With profuse leaks on my thighs
I need no flirty thrusting grin,
Though I'm no virgin to it
My strength is weak and I whither
Hither and thither like the smote gourd.
Listen to a maiden plea whose desires is,
Sweating her pains with warm embrace
In your bosoms as my lovers.
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© ENYIENYI OSINACHI HYCENTH