The mark.

[ashrayne]

The smirking waters turn their face away
In chorus with the animals and trees -
an echo of the world I cannot please.
I have no strength to face another day.
This scarlet letter burns my very soul,
A misery so keen; a shame divine
When conscience fails, the masses will malign,
not ceasing 'til the shrew has learned her role.
It is the worst of sins to love a man
and prove that love with soft and tender touch
(They say infatuation gives too much)
With not one ally, desp'rately I ran.
Perhaps the years will hide the stains in grime
And bitter hearts will lose their hate in time.