Death of Innocence

Far away from the demons and ghouls
Out of reach of those that trap the soul
In the sunlight, where all is safe
Where she can lay her head in peace
Here no harm dwells, here she is free
She is free to be who she was meant to be
Innocence, her hair down
Innocence, where no malice is found

Bright blue eyes, a welcoming smile

They make you want to stay awhile

Gentle hands that never hurt anyone

A heart that has no idea of the evil that is done

Her mind thinks of that which is only good

Not polluted by the curse of knowledge of evil and good

Her light summer dress floats in the breeze
The dream that we want to believe
But the Complication of simplification
Is simplification’s prone to obliteration
Innocence, though she was meant to stay
Is too often torn away
Hark, who comes across the meadow
Who hath so many good things to endow?
Comes a knight in shining armour
Lucrative Gifts doth he bear
His familiar face allays her fear
His soothing voice calms her
Her closest friend, she draws near
A smile on her face, nothing to fear
His arms wrap around her slender form
Ever so slowly, their bodies now conform
He turns now and steps away
His back to her, in her place she stays
Till he turns around, his smile gone
Now a dagger in his hand
The flatter of a friend
The precursor of her bitter end
The lips she kissed are hard
A bolt of steel strikes her heart
Her white clothes now stain red
As now all her blood has bled
He looks her in the eye
And in a cold voice says goodbye
Her closest friend was her greatest enemy
God help us, it’s too late to flee
Her eyes wide in shock
Innocence lost

Unexpected, her death, sudden and swift

The end of a life pure, sending the soul adrift
The questions she would never herself ask
Now come as she sees through his mask
Now under the guise of pretence
The death of Innocence.


Story behind the poem:

Innocence Meaning and Definition (from

  1. (n.) The state or quality of being not chargeable for, or guilty of, a particular crime or offense; as, the innocence of the prisoner was clearly shown.
  2. (n.) Simplicity or plainness, bordering on weakness or silliness; artlessness; ingenuousness.
  3. (n.) The state or quality of being innocent; freedom from that which is harmful or infurious; harmlessness.
  4. (n.) The state or quality of being morally free from guilt or sin; purity of heart; blamelessness

This story that is told, is an allegory. I pictured Innocence as a woman for two main reasons: one, innocence is beautiful. Two, innocence is fragile. I really wanted to bring out what innocence is about. Innocence is not having to fight between good and evil. Innocence is not being exposed to the filth of our world. Innocence is what all babies have, and Innocence is why we adore them so. Innocence is how we were meant to be, until we fell into sin. Innocence is fragile, and at some stage in our life, our innocence will ‘die’ unfortunately. I like to think that innocence has many areas of life, from being an adoring child who loves everyone, to the old man who has never even thought about the vile deeds that so many do today. Some innocence will die, it’s a result of sin, but for some people, they are blessed to remain innocent in some areas of life. Some people will never know what it’s like to be betrayed. Some will never know what it’s like to be spurned. They are the fortunate few.

This poem was inspired by one of my relationships. Now, looking back, I realise that I was just a kid, who couldn’t imagine that someone who professed love to you could spin around and throw it all in your face. I was just a kid who gave all I had to my special girl, and then watched as she threw it on the ground and walked on it. Now, I’ve changed. Inside, I still am like that kid. I want to believe that you can love without reservation, without fearing rejection or betrayal, but the honest truth is, that I cannot do that anymore. The innocence inside me died, and it won’t ever come back. Now I’m always ready for the rejection, for the betrayal. In fact, in a way, I expect it. Back then, I could say that I loved with all my heart, and gave without reserve, but now, I am most definitely guilty of loving with half a heart, and giving just a little, for fear of watching it all thrown away. Some might say that instead of a kid, I’ve grown into a man. The way I see it? I’d rather be an innocent kid, than a tortured man.

Stay as innocent as you can 🙂



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