HIS ABUSE

Underneath the moon's chilling embrace, Dwells a tale of torment, void of grace. A wife, once filled with dreams so bright, Now trapped in a realm where all is blight. Her name, a whisper in the night's cold breath, Lost amid the echoes of her silent death. Her heart, a shattered vessel of despair, Quivers beneath her husband's cruel stare. Each day dawns with a dread unspoken, As she tiptoes 'round with spirit broken. His words, like knives, tear at her soul, Leaving wounds that never find a made whole. In the shadows, the agony persists, A symphony of anguish, a desolate twist. She hides her scars with trembling hands, As she pleads for release from distant lands. But freedom remains but a distant dream, In this house where hope's silent scream Is drowned by the roar of his relentless rage, Leaving her imprisoned in her gilded cage. She once harbored visions of escape, Where love's sweet solace might take shape. But chains of fear bind her tighter still, In this abyss where dreams are shattered at will. Yet within her, a flicker of defiance stirs, As she bears the weight of his cruel spurs. No longer does she cower in dread, For in this darkness, she'll make her bed. Alone, she gathers her fractured pride, And takes a step, no more need to hide. She seeks solace in the arms of night, Where shadows cloak her in their blight. Together with her silent despair, She finds solace in the cold, empty air. No savior comes to break her chains, As she fades into oblivion's remains. And though her scars may never fade, She wears them as a mark of her charade. For in this tale of darkness, there lies no light, Only the echoes of a silent, endless night.