A poem about a mind tormented by early abuse and repressed sexuality, descending into madness as it fails to break others who see through its schemes.
Copyright © Priya Florence Shah
🤕 🤕 🤕
In shadows cast by early years,
His mind was fractured, drowned in tears.
The scars of pain, the silent cries,
Abuse that darkened childhood skies.
🤕 🤕 🤕
Asylum walls, his haunting home,
In numbing voids, he’d often roam.
Refusing healing’s tender touch,
Made agony his constant crutch.
🤕 🤕 🤕
🤕 🤕 🤕
A secret kept, his hidden side,
His love concealed, he lived a lie.
Religious fears, a heavy shroud,
Afraid his truth would be too loud.
🤕 🤕 🤕
He sought to bend her will, her soul,
To drag her down, to take control.
But she, with clarity, saw through,
His every scheme, his twisted view.
🤕 🤕 🤕
🤕 🤕 🤕
In shadowed self, he chose to dwell,
Descending deep, depravity’s well.
Lost in darkness, he couldn’t see,
The light that might have set him free.
🤕 🤕 🤕
Her strength, a mirror to his plight,
Exposed his mind to endless night.
Defeat he tasted, bitter, cold,
A madness, slow, began to mold.
🤕 🤕 🤕
🤕 🤕 🤕
In depths of anguish, lost, he fell,
A tortured soul in private hell.
The battle waged within his heart,
A fractured mind, torn apart.
🤕 🤕 🤕