There's a burning between her thighs
travelling in waves up aching nerves;
The terror dying in her glazing eyes.
Still, the happy gang didn't care at all;
Sexually satisfied and all smug ego –
back-patting in smarmy glee
so morally distasteful, but they just laugh
sure in their knowledge that they're safe,
free from capture, after all caustic soda
is corrosive and they drenched the slut in it -
drowning DNA evidence in appalling pain
as she squirmed in such hilarious agony.
And they watched on nonchalantly
feeding their desires on drugs and booze
before leaving her lying there, discarded:
A broken offering soaked in cranberry pools -
so only the Gods can save her now.