The Cruelest Stroke

I stand on the
edge of the abyss
and reached into its
darkness, searching
for your submission.

I know that you have fallen
you have tumbled into
the void and into
the prison of your flesh

you have locked away
your bondage, you have
imprisoned your desire.

the scars were too much
to bare, the hurt was
overwhelming,
and from my hand
the cruelest blow of all,
the wound that burnt you to the core
that turned your submission
to ash was no blow at all

the hurt that drove you
from the world, that
collapsed your spirit
was no hurt at all.

now I stand on the edge
of the abyss and the
darkness drinks from
my eyes.

I watched as you collapsed
to your knees,
my heart sank into the pit,

and the cruelest stroke
was no stroke at all

and now that you are hidden
now that the darkness
has swaddled you,
I step to the edge of the abyss
and prepare to leap.

now that you’re in your
shell, removed from the
loving ache, the darkness
whispers to your wounds.

but I stand on
the edgy of the abyss
and prepare to leap

the darkness has
swallowed you
the darkness has eaten
every morsel

and in my despair
I reach into the abyss
beyond hope I travel
beyond what I am

you have hidden your
submission, camouflaged as pride
brutally stuffed it
into the dark
you have strangled your
desire with a twisted ligature
of despair
you have starved your need
you have suppressed
your appetite,
and throttled
who you are.

you have climbed into your
fortress of flesh
you have leapt into
your private abyss

and I , I in despair
stand on the brink
and try to reach
into your abyss
I stand on the brink
and slowly sink into
my own darkness
into the grief
of the abyss

and realise that
and the cruelest stroke
was no stroke at all.