Binded by these four walls,
Locked by a pair of eyes.
Embracing every curve within-
Only silent cries.
Don't call it rape,
For it would be an insult.
Call it a place of worship,
And yourself, a part of the cult.
And as you say your 'prayers'
And I say mine,
There's a difference we hold
In the faith of our divine.
And now it's a cursed temple,
As your soul guards it.
Prayers of help echo within,
As your fingers slit.
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