She walked before man quite exposed
With tendrils of hair and dainty steps
Warm lips embraced the roaring falls
A curving figure of unsullied breath


But perfect, vulnerable waters of paradise
Could not quench the savage lust of man
Her fingers he tied in sadistic knots
The rings of life he groped and kissed away


He justified himself as sovereign of passion
Appointed to shape a vessel from dirt and foliage
Her voice now restricted like a beaten path
Body unearthed, exhausted, ravished beyond repair


The wind still cries with each harrowed stroke
A white dove fettered, red falling on dirtied snow
She offered beauty and life night and day
He devoured both and lit the final flame