The Hands that made the Weapon

Magnificent strong an essence of armor,
his once loving hands now strive to harm her.

The house closes in getting smaller & smaller. It begins in an instant, his hands will alarm her.

As if it's a fitting desire for him,
he exudes entitlement at any given whim.

His hands are raised by his choice of course.
His pattern is clear as she now hears that voice.

What is the rhyme, what is the reason?
Is it reckless abandon sedition or treason?

Can she think through the panic?
Can she fight through fear?
His endeavor to harm her
is so very near.

He's quick and he's sure her neck's his allure as his goal is set into motion.

She tries to hang on as she can now see this danger that he calls devotion.

As no air goes in and none comes out
It's madness & horror as he slings her about.

She struggles, she fights it's the fight of her life, can't scream & can't breathe does she get a reprieve from the man who says she is MY wife?

She sees the sparks they fly in her eyes then darkness ascends like a thief in the night.

As she submits to her death her only request, is for Christ to be there beside her.

For her death begins right there in her home
did anyone know he'd not leave her alone?

For at work in her desk is a serious note.
One to convey to her friends and her folk.

The plight of the broken the battered and bruised
with nothing to gain and all to loose.

God forbid you prefer your hands as your weapon use them for love it's all your discretion.

How many nights and how many fights
How many missing or injured have died?

How many people with choice & aggression
Desire their hands be used for their weapon?

Of three of your friends it could be one or be two
As numbers compare it could even be you.

© COPYRIGHT 2010, Judy Bruton