Little Whore's Divine Justice

There's a sleepless touch
Waiting; 'mongst bidden fruits
Little more than rainstorms
And given for well-worn boots:

Illicit mumblings of gentlewoman
Caller of her satisfied harem,
Men who think more of evasion
Than unfilled lust and creme

That should only be buried under
The good Lord's earth; kept
From sight of any great city wall
And very unlike any guard which crept

Before that unbroken woman given
For slave unto her enemy only
Because she had never before known
Strong man in all his untoward glory

Revenge comes tenfold as they say
"For I shall give thee yours"
Because it is thine own that you seek
Mercy? Clemency? For this ye tours

Yielding soft blankets of fleece
For innocent child's (knowing not why)
Sleep? More like to strangle one's
Own kin in a sorry bid for good-bye

Still I love thee, always as you say
(Though thinking that I grow weary of task)
And pray louder, louder each every day
Drinking fiercely in that which thou bask

In glory's light–Hell's light–as thou giveth
If I turn away shall I still be judged?
My sleep suffers, with so many men
To pleasure. Thee's will shalt not be budged

Why then should Lord see his ills?
My lovers are kind souls who did me no harm
But ever those with no wrong-doing
Are those hogs punished on butcher's farm

Much like I was in my day.
You command him, "march forth!"
And "murder every man, and woman who hath
Known him." For she hath given birth?

Nay. 'Tis just the way things are done.
"Take for your own every woman-child
Intact." And so they did. Every virgin from
All she had loved and life gently mild

But giveth her untold into the hands
Foreign slave drivers to be taught a lesson
Of blame never earned, crime never committed
Because it was thee's whim; Moses' blessin'

For following, even when he hath no choice
Do or die, as they say
This is how this mind works
As brilliantly, rightly, as a stack of hay

I did no wrong, and for it I was punished
Then ye say "For me" (because I did beg unto thee)
"Thou hast suffered wrongs (not of my doing; Eve
Made thee guilty) now I shall set you free"

And you bring me from a fancy whore-house
Where men so called Godly have me ravish
And give me a hovel, and fifty men
Of no connection to past nor wish

And punish me thrice: destroy mine family
And home; giveth me unto pain and humiliation;
Now have me cause good men indignity in own right.
Thought to set yourself up for peaceful obviation?

Cruel fiend. I can speak no more than this
And weep for those innocents' lost bliss:
You said that it was justice...
But I call it cowardice