In significant suffering, her story unfolds,

A woman’s dreadful tale, that was long foretold.

From dawn’s embrace to twilight’s sobering sigh,

A paralyzing heartache, contemplating ways to die.

As she awakens, in her mind, a whispered plea,

Her broken soul concealed, so no one else could see.

Within anxieties cage, her mind and soul, now bound,

She dons a dismal hood, and wears silence like a gown.

Her eyes were once as bright as morning’s first light,

Now woefully dull, like stars veiled by endless night.

Her flawed smile, fragile as petals in the breeze,

Hides the bitter torment that brings her to her knees.

His gaze, filled with ice, pierces her soul’s core,

Silent disdain, veiling pain, and fault, deplore.

Her severed soul, a tangled tapis forged with fear,

A tarnished coexistence, stained with salty tears.

Fantasizing forgiveness, flirting with the ghost of grace,

As she tiptoes amidst timid shadows in this forsaken place.

Her plea for clemency echoes, desperate to be his,

Hope’s deception keeps her trying to mend whatever this is.

With each affectionate thought, a rose’s thorn appears,

Pain masked as passion; her spirit slowly disappears.

Imprudent actions, past-tense, embarrassment she conceals,

The rueful ache behind her eyes, a soliloquy that reveals.

Her inadequate body shivers, fragile as autumn leaves,

As his words fall like daggers, insults that pierce and cleave.

Trembling like a shivering child on a cold winter night

Seeking shelter in his presence, an odd comfort despite.