Poetry

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His fist was strong, his punch fierce. As her flesh tore, her mortality was real. Broken hearted. Ashamed. Sad. Pitiful. She fell. At first, she denied the truth. Lied to herself. She tried to understand how she caused this. Had she tempted those above her? Had she committed a sin so great, that it merited this torture?
Broken bones came next. Stitched flesh. Actual scars. Mental and physical. She’d never forget. Her sobs at night would not let her. Her dreams replayed the days horrors. A movie in her mind. Angels wings ripped from their sockets. Halo crushed beneath the Demons foot. Heavenly release would never come. She was nothing.
Her only solace; The stars. Oh, how she wished she could return to them. Yet, knew she could never be able to do so. Her kingdom was lost. Blood flowed for what seemed an eternity. Body broke down. Spirit crushed. Her will to live was gone. She prayed each night for the Gods to take her, end her suffering. Yet, they did not.
Something was brewing beneath her calm, placid exterior. A tempestuous storm. Could she fight back? The chips were stacked against her, but the Goddess stood defiant. Dark gaze never left his icy stare as she stood toe to toe with a demon.
Words flew, they dueled into the night and the Goddess never faltered. He swung once and that was all it took. She broke. When she swung, her punch landed true. Struck his jaw with all her might. Finally! The Demon bled too!
His lip split and his blood was shed. Her pent up rage and anger began to swell. Finally, it broke the surface. She fought her hardest that night. She never knew she could battle that hard until that Demon pushed her to the limit.
Unknown strength was found and forced outward. Her deed was done. Her freedom was her gift from the Gods. Scarred and beaten. Broken and tainted. She was Free.
Glistening tears on a cherubs face remind me of those times. Having seen the Madonna cry in my dreams, brings memories to the surface. Blood trickling down my face shows, I am human. Time heals all wounds. I am the Goddess and I, alone, reclaimed my throne.

10/13/2007
Copyright Nevermore Creations 1993-2017

“As a writer, I’ve found an outlet for the pains I’ve felt. A way to express things I cannot verbalize. Being a mom, writer, and survivor, I just take it a day at a time.” – Channing W. Milburn

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