She wakes in the dark, the ordeals of past years torments her night..
With chattering teeth, she trembles as her fears turn an acrid pill to swallow..
Thoughts of facing her misery at dawn, thrusts her deeper into her fright..
At night, she w’d stare owl-eyed at her silhouette now bruised into a pitiable shadow..
At dawn, tiny light rays lightens her stoicism to boundless height..
As she picks up her tired bones, rouguely infused with pale marrow…
The scourge of an abused woman is an umbra on morality’s light..
An arrow to her dignity, a crude harbinger of desolation and sorrow..
A hint that habitual perversion hardly ever dissipate out of sight..
At sunrise, she emerges with firm resolve to fix her horror..
Still, the cycle of use and misuse recurs with more fights..
With misogynistic debauchery, he preys on her pain like a condor..
Nibbling on her frustrations to add to his illusive sham weight..
Unmindful that the old cliché of clamping a bleeding romance has for long lost flavour..
Cos foresight and swift action are now potent panacea to this ugly trait..
Wisely flee a cowed affair than be buried alongside in scentless odour..
For you all stuck blindly in mundane abuse, hear me right..
It’s time to tactfully severe all anguish with sharp razor…
