The wind blew in and settled like a frost.
Cold – shivering – forced to bare all, she laid.
Sweat dripped across her flesh, hands held and crossed.
Face smothered into her mattress, she prayed.
She lay helpless, frightened, tears streamed, heart frayed.
No fight left now, a stranger in her skin.
His touch coarse – overpowering – she obeyed,
No longer gagging at that scent of gin.
Every night he came; they joined in sin.
But years of conditioning left her mute
And barren, despite her being his kin.
Weak – powerless – she succumbed to the brute.
He named her Rose, as she was his daughter,
And he had ensured his future slaughter.