Her (sonnet)

Terrified female of the iron wrath

With forceful hands shoving her down the drain.

Naked body slips in the metallic bath.

The naive virgin, constrained, by silver chains.

Looking up at this distorted figure,

Aggressive dark hands shaped like bowling balls;

Shadowed man appearing clear, then bigger.

She cries for help through dull, dank, crowded walls. 

A beam of light is burning through the window;

Hopes and dreams with her golden desires.

Anyone! Rescue her! Come, be the hero! 

And shimmering breasts dazzle as a survivor.

Lifeless corpse devoured by cardinal flood.

The crimson petals drip drop like cold blood.