By Alex S. Johnson
You ask for clemency
Better ask the dungeon walls to bend
And time? Lady, the hourglass is wrecked
Hours scattered to shores of the moon
And crows perched on the turrets
Foreshadowing your Doom
Cackle and flutter their pinions
As you’re sealed in my dominion.
Your time is mine
Eternity of pain
Abased, without a name
Except such brands that serve
Manacled, shackled, baffled
That such a turn could come
With bloody lips you offer
Weak apologies—is that a fact?
And where was that soft and acquiescent mien
When, brutalized, I begged for kindness?
But the clock was ticking then
Metering my woes. Now you, Mistress
Are brought low.
Surely you didn’t expect
My pride to melt like candle wax
Dripped on tender flesh.
Each cry you wrung from my throat
Will be avenged, my tears like burning flails
Upon you, kneeling with averted eyes—
Moans, sighs, groans
Baffled by leather.