The Windigo
Seething eyes of murky red
Smolder contempt for a disabled soul.
Talons slash a tendered heart,
Weakness is upon what you prey.
Twisted smiles unveil sadistic lies
Defiance nourishes your growth.
Weariness weeps for this battles ending.
Thus the light again has risen...
Left with scars un-healing,
Only perhaps yet to fade?
For Merre Jayne,a very evil mother.A true story.
Copyright © Gary Bechter | Year Posted 2010
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