A beast that preys, just for the thrill

Stalks its den, spouse, and young

The air fills with a haunting chill

The child holds her breath and tongue 

Quietly moving through the halls

As to not upset the sleeping beast

But to no avail, as it’s enthralled 

For actions that were concerned the least 

Torment ensued over child’s play

Concealed bruises to hide her shame

Nothing seemed to go her way

Thought she was the root to blame

Hatred flows deep through her core

Bottled up and stored in chambers tight

No child should suffer the life she bore

Where fear haunts her day and night