Their words are their weapons
Vocabulary cuts like a blade
Such simple words allude to their target's emotional decay
Their actions are their duty
A simple shove to the side
It's as if they're programmed to poison their victim's mind

A venom so powerful, there is no cure
Time heals all wounds, but the prognosis remains obscure
The victim is empty; a shell, a waste
The perpetrator leaves them helpless with no account for taste

This is a riot! This is a murder!
Not instant, yet not delayed
This is an outcry! This is death!
Too soon for her, it was catalyzed this way

Sure, she lives & sure, she breathes
But the scars remain totally unseen
Physically unnoticed, but assuredly there
No longer trusting anyone, anytime, anywhere...