The abuse is normalized
when the numbness settles in
another turn around the clock
the same no matter what
repetition is the master's trick
the surest way to ease a mind
subdue the urge to flee
when the tone is misery

the harsh word is mollified
even as the wound is struck
by the promise of emptiness
once the storm has reduced
while the clouds circle round
never fully leaving the sky
casting grays across the earth
without a rainbow ever seen

colors reduced to red and black
splashed with blue to illustrate
that the bruises manifest
from a palette of imp's delight
mixed to black without recourse
to the balm others source
from the lack of injury
or is it something angels keep?

still the outcome is embraced
just another tortured day
until the cycle is expired
by the stain of bloodshed
this is the hope above all else
a wish that lives in the heart
the fondness of the beyond
when life is fully lost.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190205.