Embroidered with a gospel fire
her arms were marked by revelations
A force to reckon, ruined desire
guilted by associations

Weeping, tracing, bloodstained tears
through the houses halls and prison
When Sunday came along with fear
she finalized delayed decisions

A stony glance at cold, stark Doll-House
the blame to shame he could not hide
The daughter of evangelic louse
had cut out all his righteous pride

She stared up, drawing final air
And said, “I’m sorry Daddy, for your shame.”
Her pallor turning chalk and fair
She was his child, to take the blame

As church bells chimed the hour of prayer
I place no bounds on this apart from what those of you see... it is based on some of my past and the feelings I had as a child but the meaning is for you to take as your own...