Withered

Is she not the monster?
Who threw me in the dungeon
Where vicious beasts await
With their teeth bared
And fangs that glisten
In the dark


Is she not the monster?
Who whipped me with her belt
Who burned my skin
With her fiery words
That left me scorned
And numb with pain


Is she not the monster?
Who plucked my heart
And squelched the tiny organ
Until it collapsed
The red liquid sluicing
Down her cruel hands
Is she not the monster?
Who hung me upside down
And pierced a hole in a place
Where there was already one
Blood then poured out
And bathed me with red


Is she not the monster?
That harmed a little flower
Who laughed while I cried
The one that inflicted pain
With immense pleasure
Gleaming in her eyes


Is she not the monster?
That's soulless and dark
Her face a picture of innocence
Killed innocence itself
Who destroyed a little girl
As little as a daisy

by Maven Kyland

Comments (3)

A good start with a nice poem, Maven. You may like to read my poem, Love And. Thank you.
An insightful sad tale expertly narrated from the heart with conviction. Brave utterances in good rendition of words. Thanks for sharing Maven.
A poignant write.. you have portrayed deep agony of a person so neatly .....10