Verse for #FromOneLine #prompt 163 inspired by “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.” from the play Tje Mourning Bride by William Congrove.
After the storm
Her soul lay bare
A torrent of words
Gushed out in fury
Suppressed, repressed
Now phrases unruly
Unabashed, unashamed
She ripped the veils
Shattered, battered
Pretenses swept away
Silent rage, now a surge
All trauma, finally purged
She wears her scars
Like gleaming tattooes
Tangled hues of red
Painted on her skin
Bruises that never bled
Lonely silver trinkets
Mimic sheeny sparkles
Of pensive eyes, as they
Cling to starry destinies,
Fate written in the winds,
Hope acquired over eons
Of pain that will dissolve
With the first splash of rain
When the seasons change
She wears her scars
Like gleaming tattooes
Tangled hues of red
Painted on her skin
Bruises that never bled
Lonely silver trinkets
Mimic sheeny sparkles
Of pensive eyes, as they
Cling to starry destinies,
Fate written in the winds,
Hope acquired over eons
Of pain that will dissolve
With the first splash of rain
When the seasons change
Blue Pen Strokes 