by Josephine Childs
A rumble rolling up the street
Stops to change to heavy feet,
Thundering on the naked floor,
As fiery rage pounds on the door.
Winds of pain pummel the room,
Lightening strikes, signaling doom.
The quiet is shattered, as brittle as bone.
Laying here...battered, is a woman alone.
Her agonized cries piercing the air,
She turns for help, but no one is there.
His heart is stone cold, her blood drips so warm,
She is a victim of the Domestic Storm.