THE BROKEN WOMAN

By Ariah Williams 8 months ago

Her fantasies of love and romance

was buried in the cold darkness

as the night breathed tyranny.

 

Afrighted by the heavy footsteps behind her,

Her breathing and walking pace

birthed horrifying rhythms.

 

Then the cold tap on her shoulder  signalled

how close the rebel was.

She felt his iron grip and fought with futile strength.

Her cry for help was short lived by the forceful palm

that veiled her quivering voice.

 

The sound of her pleas was a dirge to the night

as she was stripped,battered and wounded nigh to death.

she helplessly sacrificed her back to the stingy grasses

as the rebel made the earth their couch.

He flung her lower limbs east and west

and descended on her for perhaps his "last supper"

 

Her tears hydrated the earth

as the rebel's victorious thrusts expelled

all the joy and love her pure soul had nursed

and watered her with the liquid of pain and agony.

 

He deserted her.

when the dusk ushered in the dawm.

Her reflection was a damned soul.

Her being was wrecked

for even her tears dripped like blood.

She is pained

She is THE  BROKEN WOMAN,

destitute in her own skin.

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