abyss of his wicked, blood-shot eyes.
Decaying yellow teeth are hidden deep within
his soiled unshaven face.
The sickening stench of cheap beer and cigarettes
wafts off his tounge with every wheezing breath.
She is crippled one last time by the devilish voice
of rage echoing from the bottom of cancerous lungs.
Alcohol fuels the fists that swarm to her
like starving wolves upon some woundless prey,
before the first tear is born.
Marriage vows become but meaningless lies.
Still, the golden ring he wears, relentlessly impales
her sad broken figure.
The midnight darkness of this towering shadow
blankets the crimson puddle in which she lies, motionless.
Death before dreams can be created.
The end of a life tormented.