This guillotine is a mirror held out to her own behaviour

Her ashen knees strewn on cobblestone as the villagers gather up around her

The crowd steadily increasing in mass while looking haggard in God’s good grace

She exuded the language of emotion itself in the form of a perpetual embrace

Kneeling below her distorted reflection of a blonde maiden in need of validation

Eyes encased in a crimson tint staring back at her own indiscretion

Never exonerated by the very beings she dedicated her transcendent life to protect

The people believe it is morally applicable to stand by to the social contract

She was made in His image for gender is only fabricated in a physical plane

They gazed at her beauty but were rendered immobile by their own pain

She’s more than a marginalized woman occupying our world and so to give in to temptation,

The distortion dissolves beneath her eyelids before the mirror meets the source of its reflection