Pride

As the hand traced the length of her leg,

As she found the invasion too much,

She pushed it off track with a small smile on her face.

As he lifted it again above her skin saying no.

Still the hand returned, a little less soft,

A little more insistent upon her skin,

His face glowing in hope doomed for long,

She pushed it off track again saying no.

And the hand came crashing back on her leg,

The pain so intense, the affront so immense,

She turned away, the hand falling to the bed,

That hand once more off track as she said no.

The hand grabbed her arm leaving marks for days,

Turning her over again to face him, his face full of anger,

His pride hurt, his needs unfulfilled, his wife unresponsive,

She shook the hand away, whispering please no.

He shouted words of her ears had heard for a decade,

A long night ahead, a long-time of unhappiness,

The faith has reasons the women have no responses too,

Her words unheard, her pride shattered as she repeated no.

What the man, the man had to have, a decade of respect broken,

Words are worth nothing to one who uses them just to speak,

His hand moving as it wishes on a body not his own,

As she pleaded gently, hoping for a little pity, just a simple no.

In her mind life found little worth, a person a mere slave,

All thoughts spiralling out of control in the dark of her room,

The warmth of a breath no longer welcome by her side,

And she could only ask kindly for this ordeal to end.

She woke up in the middle of the night surrounded by white,

A colour of peace, of hope and all good,

She looked at the clock, looked around desperately,

The nightmare ended, all alone, safe but full of the memory,

Full of hatred for the one of condemned her to an eternal fear.