The Black Beast
He is her bete noire,
Anathema, despised thing
The black beast lurking in dreams
Except the vivid dreams actual
Waking moments she suffers
Scarred, bruised and swollen
Accustomed to pain
Each new bash a battle wound
A badge of twisted honor
An expectation
Heroin fix for a junkie
Addicted to a sad fate
Her will, a broken
Glass, transparent fragments
Shattered on the kitchen tile
Personal chattel
His tangible property
He pushes her north and south
Her child’s compass
Distorted by skewed lessons
Beliefs garnered from a poisoned
Garden. Flawed germs,
Awful seeds bear awful fruit
Ontogeny limits life
Unanswered prayers
She obtains solace elsewhere.
Kindness, sympathy, true love
Reside over the hill
Minutes away, another world
Words spoken in foreign tongues
She cannot escape
Tied to the land, paralyzed
From the head down, a cripple
Resigned to her fate
She can only dream silent dreams
In the safe light of moonbeams.
Kbris 2006
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