Target of hate,
Like a river in spate,
Dirty and black,
Waters it flows,
With sewage flooded,
Oh! Target of hate.
I look into the mirror,
Terrified by my image,
Of a once beautiful visage,
Disfigured in grace,
Body and face,
In the rivers of disgrace.
A target,
Why me?
I want to be happy,
Even in an instant,
But time is not kind,
It won't let me unwind,
Sinking deeper and deeper,
Into the Abyss.
This is the story told,
Of a woman,
Not yet grown old,
How will she spend,
Rest of her life,
Scathed by her wounds,
Like slithering worms,
As a target of hate,
Drowning in a river of spate.
