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The End of Hell
 

A harsh voice yells in anger
Vileness rolls forth
Hateful words which wound
Cutting deeply into her spirit

A child cries, eyes wide in terror
As the fury escalates,
Each blow connecting with devasting accurcacy
He cringes with her as fists and feet fall

Shattered glass and crockery litters the floor
The remnants of all her dreams and hopes
Blood runs, a crimson stain born of domination
Mingling together becoming one, stolen time

The daemon turns, his attention now to the child
She rises, on unsteady  feet, though conviction steely
ďNo. Not everĒ her eyes harden, cold and deadly
The child runs, hiding Ďneth his bed begging sanctuary

She doesnít feel itís hands encircle her throat
Black dots dance in front of her eyes
Breath become an elusive quarry that keeps slipping away
Itís words are lost, victims of the pursuit

A door slams, loud and hollow
An echoing of ancient tombs
The daemon is startled and loosens itís grip
Angry welts arise and darken in testament

She braces herself against the doorjam
The wood grinding small shards into her hands
A sensation she draws on and expands
Waves of minute agony time to her heartís rythem

Struggling with the parchness of her throat
She draws in deep, the wall emprisoning her spirit
Smiling, she touches the molten fiery center of being
Grasping the steel will that none may ever enslave

The daemon shrinks, uncertain
Still, she stands firm, watching it in stoic silence
The voice finds release as the tongue is set free
Two words, cold and final, ďNever againĒ

The daemon retreats and fades
Carried away in a tangle of appendages
Tenderly she coaxes the child out of his protective shell
Gentle the embrace and secure

Tis done, my precious one
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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