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I think a kind of wind blew in our lands when we all slept. It breathe on all men, Causing them to wander in thirst for flesh. Not just flesh, Flesh of the opposite sex, With force and rage in their eyes like wild fire.
They are everywhere, Trusted; that your head lay on their chest daily. Your life, you swore to believe in their truth. Their faces so innocent that you vouch they can't hurt an ant.
But guess what? Their bulge stands strong, Waiting to tear down walls of dignity(vagina). Their tongues lick away the tears that we cry, when trapped in nest they created as beds. They hear our cries, But to them, it sound as moans, To be set free from pleasure they think we feel when penetrated.
Our dignity stolen. They imagine our bodies as a temple, Just as said by the Bible. So, they walk in and out of it, Like they own every angle there is. And when they're done, Making the sacred temple unholy for another priest to enter in, We're pushed to the street in rags, With fingers pointing towards us as tags, Washing us with shame they claim we own.
But who will believe our stories when we tell? We tell them soon, they say we didn't tell it well. We tell them later in the future, They say we waited too long. We die with it, they say we aren't that strong.
Yet, our greatest sin is being female.