The Ray - Pram

She is a husk to be blown away by the wind

Has no hopes, no escape routes

Mould her with her calloused hands and give her a magic seed

Something to call her very own

Make her a conjurer

Make her the god of someone’s world

Her brain is a web of chains

Put there to hold her down

Each heartbeat spills the sticky shadows

A negative of every life

That throws its light into her shape

She’s spinning it for daddy