These dark eyes
Hiding memories so forlorn
These cut and chapped lips
Keeping secrets unborn
These swelled ears
Blotting the horrid abuses
These bruised cheeks
Trying to forget the accuses
This sharp nose
Obliterating the stench of cuts
This piquant chin
Facing down with lack of guts
This body, once breathtakingly beautiful
Now extremely frail
This face, once rosy and joyous
Now gravely pale
This broken heart
Shattered into million shards
Impossible to mend
Now a subject for bards
The face once admired for beauty
Is now hideously plain
Once always smiling
Now writhes in pain
Now this face is always covered because of shame
Alas! Who shall know that her husband is to blame?
YOU ARE READING
Echoes of my soul...
PoetryWhen action seem too meager, Words take lead When words fail to make impression, Poetry is all we need... Here I have, echoes of my soul... And I hope they touch you or inspire you in any way they can... But thanks for sparing a glance :)
