Trafficked adolescent, sex slave, exploited innocent, human captive.

Bodies stolen, kisses stolen, souls stolen.

Pilfered for what? For auction, for abuse, for a twisted man’s greed.

Held down by the chains of fear, mangled dignity, and brokenness with no hope of escape.

A vicious cycle, a never ending nightmare.

A monster leaving in its wake phantoms, ghosts, the shattered.

This monster leaves no one un-touched, no one un-shattered.

The parents, the prisoners, the pimps, the perverts, all are taken captive.

A terror that comes not just in a dream, but a palpable, brutal, relentless, nightmare.

Girls stripped of dignity, starved for compassion, scandalized from their innocence stolen.

They dare to hope for the one thing they want the most; rest, peace, escape.

But they won't receive it, not even in the simplicity of death, because of greed.

Men blinded by passion commit actions with eyes glazed with greed.

Women malicious, vengeful, and bitter, snuffing out light, leaving everything behind them shattered.

Adolescence, synonyms with; talent, potential, and hope, diminished to the single wish for escape.

Parents frenzied yet exhausted, overwhelmed yet unimpressed, unwillingly succumb becoming grief’s captive.

Empty souls with no emotion, their humanity stolen

It could never be you, until it is you and this isn’t someone's nightmare, it’s your nightmare.

She was a good girl, listened to the teacher, wore her bike helmet, but that was before the nightmare.

Before Romeo showed up with his garish armor of greed.

Before she was abducted from love and transplanted into the stolen.

Before the teeth jarring, knee shaking, torment, of being shattered.

Before the cold cement floor of the cell for a captive.

Before she pondered what it meant to escape.

But on occasion, a glimmer of hope can shine and that hope can enlighten the path to escape.

Yet, anguish still lurks in corners and there is no solace in sleep that resurrects the nightmare.

Once suppressed with chains, now tethered to pain, still a captive.

She grapples with what provokes this onslaught of brutality, misery, and greed.

The truth is, you can't fix what was shattered.

But sometimes you can bring back what was stolen.

What was taken doesn’t have to be lost forever, it can’t always remain stolen.

The vicious cycle can be broken and its hostages allowed escape.

The bonds of family, love, and devotion, cannot be shattered

Eventually sweet dreams smother the villainous nightmare.

Understanding is born from the product of greed.

A survivor was first a captive.

Chase away the nightmare.

Stop feeding the monster of greed.

Set free the captive.

Trafficked adolescent, sex slave, exploited innocent, human captive.

Bodies stolen, kisses stolen, souls stolen.

Pilfered for what? For auction, for abuse, for a twisted man’s greed.

Held down by the chains of fear, mangled dignity, and brokenness with no hope of escape.

A vicious cycle, a never ending nightmare.

A monster leaving in its wake phantoms, ghosts, the shattered.

This monster leaves no one un-touched, no one un-shattered.

The parents, the prisoners, the pimps, the perverts, all are taken captive.

A terror that comes not just in a dream, but a palpable, brutal, relentless, nightmare.

Girls stripped of dignity, starved for compassion, scandalized from their innocence stolen.

They dare to hope for the one thing they want the most; rest, peace, escape.

But they won't receive it, not even in the simplicity of death, because of greed.

Men blinded by passion commit actions with eyes glazed with greed.

Women malicious, vengeful, and bitter, snuffing out light, leaving everything behind them shattered.

Adolescence, synonyms with; talent, potential, and hope, diminished to the single wish for escape.

Parents frenzied yet exhausted, overwhelmed yet unimpressed, unwillingly succumb becoming grief’s captive.

Empty souls with no emotion, their humanity stolen

It could never be you, until it is you and this isn’t someone's nightmare, it’s your nightmare.

She was a good girl, listened to the teacher, wore her bike helmet, but that was before the nightmare.

Before Romeo showed up with his garish armor of greed.

Before she was abducted from love and transplanted into the stolen.

Before the teeth jarring, knee shaking, torment, of being shattered.

Before the cold cement floor of the cell for a captive.

Before she pondered what it meant to escape.

But on occasion, a glimmer of hope can shine and that hope can enlighten the path to escape.

Yet, anguish still lurks in corners and there is no solace in sleep that resurrects the nightmare.

Once suppressed with chains, now tethered to pain, still a captive.

She grapples with what provokes this onslaught of brutality, misery, and greed.

The truth is, you can't fix what was shattered.