By Harleen Kaur
The birds sing a gentle melody.
Trees sway in sacred symphonies.
The sky blushes like a fresh rose.
Winds whistle the nature prose.
Fairy lights adorn the lush garden
Asters and lavender, Daisies and fern.
The wedding ceremony is vibrant
Pink bubbles of happiness, radiant.
I smile and glow in a gossamer gown
Wreath of azalea, on my head as a crown.
I go down the aisle, beside my father
Gazing at 'Parker', my life, my lover.
'Azalea' he says my name in a reverent whisper
I turn to mush, as my heart flutters.
We gaze deep into each other's eyes.
The priest recites sermons of eternal ties.
"I do." forever binds us in our holy vows
We kiss, we dance, we cheer and hope.
We live together floating on magical sand
I think about how lucky I am.
But appearances are often fake
My decisions might be a result of haste.
People hide behind numerous masks
What did I do? The future me would ask.
It began slowly, almost a crawl,
Crafty insults to make me feel small.
It began to run, in a couple years,
Temper tantrums and shattering wares.
And then it grew wings, soaring high,
A slap, a push, a fracture, a lie.
"No! Don't hurt me, please."
"Apologize, get down on your knees."
Broken screams sing a horrible waltz
Tears mix with blood as all will is lost.
Abuse is bleak, emotions leak.
A ray of sun, my blurry eyes seek.
Azalea no longer signifies joy and romance
My Wails mix with the agony of violence.
"You are mine. You do what I say.
I am your God. You work my way."
His awful words burn like acid
I see his face, rotten and rancid.
" You won't ever own me, Parker
I will make you sorry, remember."
I am a bird, with cut off wings
I am a fish, dying out of the sea.
I am mocked and locked.
My heart pains in brutal throbs.
But I won't let that monster win
He deserves to pay for his sins.
And if I have to become a devil for that,
I would gladly take my revenge, blood in hands.
So, I hear but don't listen.
I plot as my tears glisten.
Careful traps, intense stealth
Purchase of poisons promising death.
Silence in motion, duplicity in acts
I face humiliations with all I have.
Nothing would hinder my plans.
I would make sure of that.
One gloomy Sunday, the wind howls
As if mourning my break of holy vows.
I slip a poison in the dinner
Time to finish off that damn sinner!
I sit near his feet, as instructed
Head bowed, legs tucked, submissive.
I wait for him to eat the cake
But he gets up and goes back.
" Won't you eat the dessert?"
" I won't. Your cake tastes like dirt."
" I promise. I made it better today."
" Why are you so insistent, by the way?"
I grit my teeth, "You love cheesecake."
" Yeah, but you seem suspicious and fake."
He prowls towards me, intimidating
I refuse to back down, standing.
He obviously suspects her.
Will I ever get rid of this monster?
"I am surprised it took you this long.
I know you are quite mentally strong."
And just when he reaches for my throat
I impale him with a knife, hidden in dress folds.
Drops of red splatter my face
I am sure, I look like a savage.
His eyes were wide in betrayal and rage
As if he is the most innocent sage.
I twist the knife deeper into his gut,
Watching blood flow in scarlet rivers.
His wretched choking fills the air
I close my eyes, soaking up his fear.
He falls down, I go with him
I stab him again and again.
My wrath and vengeance at last,
This moment so tranquil yet fast.
A hush fills the house.
The air feels hollow.
This moment of quiet
So peaceful and right.
I bask in its precious light.
"God bless you.”, they say.
"Too late.”, I lament.
"The devil already did."
A sudden beeping fills my ears,
My heart gallops as my head clears.
My sight blurs as Parker vanishes
A strange white noise emerges.
Whispers of beings in the air
Sanitized scents sterile and bare.
My eyelids feel heavy, sealed
My limbs are frozen, I can't feel.
And as my eyes open and adjust
I know that I am in a hospital.
It was all a dream;
I couldn't kill him.
Parker sits beside my stretcher
He looks concerned, the liar.
He sees me awake, and turns pale
He knows his abuse will be unveiled.
A man comes, old and somber.
"I am glad to see you awake Mrs. Ember.
Do you know how you got here?"
"I do" my weak voice whispers.
"Well, you fell down the stairs
Your husband brought you here.
You were in coma for three weeks
Parker never left. You are so lucky.
I will give you two time to talk.
I have taken blood tests, let's await the results."
I wanted to stop him,
But my tongue felt heavy.
Parker already tried to kill me once
I am sure this time he will succeed.
I failed miserably during that dinner
I wish it happened like in my slumber.
Parker leans over me, his gaze cold.
This narcissistic and cruel jerk!
"I can't let you live dear.
My life, my career, I fear."
He closes my eyes with his palm, like a lover.
I try to speak through the oxygen mask, in fear.
"You should have never gone against me.
Now, you would have to die, you see."
He frowns as if there was no way.
I want to scratch his eyes off his face!
"I won't tell." I mumble shakily
My last try, my last futility.
He shakes his head sadly, mocking,
And steps on my oxygen tube
Tears fill my eyes,
He feels so huge.
I can't breathe. I choke.
I flutter like a dead bird, alone.
My gasps paint the air blue
I struggle, but it’s no use.
My life force bleeds,
And no one rues.
I eventually lose myself
Drowning in tides of grief and hate.
I float above, gazing down at the broken girl
She looks so young, so fragile, so small.
I look at the man standing near
He dusts his hand, as if to clear.
His eyes are empty as ever.
He sits down, without any care.
I died while dreaming of lies
I hoped while I lay dying
I wept while I kept hoping
I suffered while I was weeping.
I trembled while I suffered in tears.
I did nothing while I trembled with fear.
Now I float and fly
Up and up, to kiss the sky.
Azalea left behind far and below.
I tumble with the winds of mellow.
I flutter in red gardens of lushness.
I live the happiness, I never expected.
Some monsters live
And some innocents die.
I wander the houses that are settled,
Wondering about Azalea's broken petals.
As the sky blushes like a fresh rose
And winds whistle the nature prose.
By Harleen Kaur
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