To knock the universe out of its origin,
Her dilemma had the force enough.
She recalled the language of solemn labour;
With harsh little tricks up her sleeves,
She lashed out the treatment on others the same which she had to bear.

Yet as his excruciating pants of breath neared,
She forgot the language of love and care,
Painted in him the world of cuts and bruises,
Till the last blows of dominance on his pale skin had come to their fruition.

And the imagined candle like a silvery feather blew him out
Of his illusional world of toxicity and internal pleasure.
His head lolled back, a shady sketchwork of addiction
Drawn on the contours by an empty shell of a human, her.

And yet as he pleaded mercy,
She was relentless, broke him;
He let her.

Her dilemma cleared...
And his soul dissolved
Into one of submission.

By: Shaily.K