IN A VALLEY CALLED DEATH

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As she walks among the shadows of a valley called death

She secretly longs to take her last breath

So tired of hearing religious men preach,

“Believe in our God, trust what we teach!”

So she reaches out to lonely men who worship her pleasures

with praises of, “Oh God!” as they lay.

She’s found a religion of service for pay.

As she sucks dry their souls she feeds her power,

Momentary satisfaction, getting paid by the hour

They don’t ask for much, just her time for a day

Leaving their money when they go on their way

She satisfies their lust and desires,

Then sends them home to their wives,

Where they feel no guilt over living as liars

So called “good Christian” parishioners call her a whore,

Citing Gods loving forgiveness, as they sneer then slam their doors.

All of them lending their hands to her hurt and her pain

Nobody bothering to ask from where it came

Inside her cold stare and empty glare

There’s a story of a “good Christian” woman who once lived there.

Night after night, day after day

Parishioners come and reward her with pay

Then one lonely day her silent wish comes true,

She draws her last breath

Succumbing to death

Nobody comes, nobody mourns

She’s known only as, the woman who loved an angel with horns.

The men who once came pretend she never existed

When they give their confessions she’s not even listed

Now, she’s a shadow in the valley called death,

Waiting for the next whore who takes her last breath.