Well, who saw that coming? I know I didn't. The twentieth edition of poetry attempts. Anyone would think I enjoy writing poetry ha ha. Anyway, I hope you all have a wonderful day.
The Beating
A dimly lit room,
Creaks creepily on this stormy night;
Raindrops pound the windows, enhancing the gloom.
Thunder and lightning crash and clatter; filling her with feelings of fright.
Murmuring gently, she wipes the tears away,
Rubbing the wound, it stings viciously.
Hoping and praying for a better day,
How could he treat her so maliciously?
Using all her strength, she stands up tall.
Her legs battered, every step is filled with pain.
Making her way towards another certain fall;
Wondering about the freedom she can attain.
There he slouches in front of the television.
Drunk and groggy, unassuming of her presence;
A two way street, measured by her decision,
Her destiny changed within an instance.
All she wanted was to end her suffering,
To be free of his fists;
How he could hit her was baffling.
Begging for him to get it over with and slit her wrists.
Yet empowered she felt on this darkest of dusks,
The change she had longed for was in reach.
Leaning on the kitchen worktop, she could prominently smell his revolting musk’s.
Grabbing the knife, she knew all too well of the arteries to breach.
Looking in the mirror, her black eyes peered back.
She crept up behind him and stood still for a second.
Biding her time, before the last attack;
The end of the life she knew soon beckoned.
A stab! A slash! A cut! Blood splattered across her face.
Laughing as he screamed, it was the bastard she was defeating.
Death and joy walked hand in hand around their place.
No longer would she endure another beating.
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