First Drafts.

Theres the dark violence that grasps,
Deep and cold sweat inducing
burning for weakness
for distraction
for failure.

Feeding from lost glances,
barriers ignored.
The dark violence grasps.

Reddened knees of surrender.
Faint, wounded cries.
Beg for strength.

She comes.
Standing, watching, waiting, intercessing.

The dark violence grows and overflows.
Drowning for hours.
She stands, watching, waiting, intercessing.

Reddened face of true surrender.

She smiles and it disappears.
"Next time it will be easier"