Lost in the depths of her emotions,
she rages inside.
Cold at the thought of the world,
flaming at the thought of Him.
Somehow, nothing seemed to ease it.
No words could heal her wounds.
There was no remedy for this irrevocable pain.
Before, a prayer would always help.
When she spoke to Him,
the pain would flow out of her,
like hot lava out of a distressed volcano.
But how could she pray now?
Wasn't it Him that took the life?
Wasn't it Him that said 'and it will be'
heartlessly claiming what was hers,
wrapping His malicious claws
around the one she loved?
All she wanted now was to end it.
End her suffering once and for all.
Abuse herself until her crimson
blood stained the delicate carpet.
But she would not be a coward,
she would not run to the one she despised most.
Instead she would face the world
as coldly and proudly as she could,
until He's unbeaten hand gripped her life
and let her be punished for her hate.
|
Submission Name: Unbeaten Hand
