Weakened in all the wrong places
The soil yields again to the travelers shovel
Patting down the final muddy bumps
Her whimpers barely audible
From below the soil
The traveler drags a fallen tree
Just across her as he slowly sits
To enjoy a sip of cold spring water
And bears witness to her final moments
Wind picks up and scatters
The slow drying leaves of fall
Across her unmarked, untimely grave
His garden is full of pretty flowers like her
Whose petals were removed and stems separated
In preparation for his planting season
Whose beauty was a curse
And whose trusting nature held their downfall
Not unlike their male counterparts
Who undeserving found their way to this place
Buried under rock and earth
No meaning in their passing
Just the simple inexplicable logic
Of the madman who chose them