In the stillness of the night,
A whisper breaks the calm,
Not of love or sweet embrace,
But of a fist that brings her harm.
Bruises bloom like wilted flowers,
Petals of purple, black, and blue,
Each one a silent scream,
Each one a story that’s too true.
Her tears fall, a river deep,
But no one sees, no one knows,
The pain she hides beneath her smile,
The scars she wears like hidden clothes.
His words, they cut, they break her down,
A poison in her veins,
Yet still, she stays, in fear, in doubt,
Bound by invisible chains.
But listen close, hear her heart,
It beats with strength untold,
For in the darkness, there’s a light,
A fire that won’t grow cold.
She’ll rise one day, she’ll break the mold,
And leave the past behind,
For every woman who’s been torn,
Will find her voice, her peace of mind.
No more silence, no more fear,
No more hiding from the night,
For she’s a warrior, she’s a queen,
And she’ll step into the light.
So let her story echo loud,
In every heart, in every home,


Comments (5)
A good stand against physical abuse. Great poem, Janatu.
Spread the scary. Liked it.
Very powerful and sad.
Indeed 😊
Scary and very heartbreaking.