A Broken Soul

His eyes, beady and black
merciless and mirthless
stared into the depths of my own.

Raising his hand, calloused and blotchy
powerful and cruel
struck me, beating my weak body.

My cries, of sorrow, of pain,
of anger, of confusion,
did not stop him. He kept hurting me.

Over and over again.

The dancing dots before my eyes, the blood running through my fingers,
The loud crack as my head hit the floor,
my groan of agony,
his looming form, his fearful shadow...

He basked me away from the pain,
into the darkness, never to return.
 

Author Notes: Jeez.
Well...uh. That was dark.

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