Ritual Pursuit

Running for her life she fled,
out into the dark night air,
her piercing scream awoke the dead,
on she hurried without a care.

She knew not what she ran from,
nor where her path would lead,
she was driven on by hatred,
or so it would seem.

Scurrying through the undergrowth,
her lower limbs torn,
flickering, hesitant, full of loath,
her inner self was born.

She wanted to escape this fear,
to her sins she must confess,
she needed but a listening ear,
to save her from this darkness.

As Satan lured her onward,
her soul mourned her return,
she stumbled on the white-hot coals,
and she could feel it burn.

(age 14)