His Wrath

A wife in a abusive marriage!

Bruised and battered from your fury wrath,

I pray for deliverance.

You spew out how disgraceful I am with wicked lips.

Love for me has vanished from your heart.

Did you ever love me?

 

You seize me with such potency.

I beg for mercy.

Your wrath is bountiful, never runs dry.

Your countenance mirrors your true self.

 

Enlighten me where I went wrong.

your eyes show silent laughter.

Evil flows through your veins,

spilling out like lava erupting from a volcano.

 

Oppressions weigh heavy on my heart.

Meditation keeps me going,

strengthens me to face each day.

But I'm growing tired, weak,

I want to rest.

Sometimes I beg for the sleep of death.

Author's Note

Hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

I know this is a deep topic, When i say I hope You enjoy all I mean is tell me what you think.

Reviews

[sarah]

this is amazing! really great

[InkSlinger]

I think I will agree with Monroe on this.. to question, is to feel, to doubt oneself.. This poem has the feeling of resolve.. I am not going to take it anymore.. I will not lie down for you... it is just an opinion, to this well done piece of work! Salute!!

[Poetic Beauty]

The second stanza is done quite well in detail explaining the inner monster of the man. The poem come close to the feeling abused women go through. I know I was one. Only happened once but the one time he hit me it was bad. I left pressed charges and had him arrested. This poem flows quite nicely and the details are strong.

[E.H. Monroe]

I wish the blurb wasn't there. This would have been great to flip around, and see what people came up with.
Momma Monroe was battered and that idea of everything was her fault is one that lives on in my pain like a stick of hate dynamite.
The true self is the broken man, the one that has the power of a king in the tinest kingdom over one person.

F*****g A,

Bravo