Domestic Violence Against The Woman Poem by RIC BASTASA

With her persistent love she looked into
The scattered colors of her sunset.She is
Happy to lose herself in the complicated
Sound of the ending of the day. Curious
She read carefully the meaning of his verse
Composed in red letters of his blood.
It was not the common red, it was something
Else, it was more than love, in fact it could
Be death, that dissipating color spun like
Fine fibers of her destiny. For the quiverings
She spent her time in delays and ambivalence,
Lacking the strength to walk out from this
Path of betrayal, she gazed upon it, just waiting
And staring at the patterns of his violence,
They asked her, out of concern, to finally
Step out, but she didn’t like a moth she
Circled the fire of his insanities
She prayed for the light. She called upon
The powers of the gods to change him.
It was too late, the fire burned the wings
Of the insistent moth. And there she lies
Dead, totally wrecked and abandoned.