Drowning even when upfloat seems like a lost cause.
Ignorance and pride all dried, they really tried.
The one that remains isn't entirely a saint.
She cries and sobs, each tear follow the trail of the ones that dried .
The blood that swept through each small crack, nook and rack.
The one that laid bought this upon his faith.
The bruises, black eye and scratches snatched her smile.
The limb body was her divine intervention through connections.
She sat on her knees, in Front of the Lord.
Her faith was sealed, but without him she gained release .
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Author:
devil_dear (
Offline) - Published: October 28th, 2024 10:34
- Comment from author about the poem: A poem about domestic abuse and release granted through tough process
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 31
Offline)
Comments1
Loved it. The line "each tear follow the trail of the ones that dried" hit me like a ton of bricks.
Thank you!!
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