Wednesday, February 6, 2013


She was beautiful
To him.

Despite the blackened cheek,
The eye swollen shut,
The once gaping wound
Now stitched up,
She was beautiful.

To him,
She was an angel,
A broken angel,
But an angel nevertheless,
And her tears was
His kryptonite, his weakness.

Every time the Devil
Fought with her,
She would find sanctuary
On his couch.

Staying long enough to
Heal her wounds but
Never long enough
To heal her heart
And strengthen her spirit.

He promised himself that
One day, he won't let her go,
He won't let her
Return to the Devil,
But not today.

Today, he will give her
Sanctuary, a place
To rest her head
A shoulder to lean on,
An ear to listen.

Today, he will keep her safe
From the Devil,
From herself.

In him,
She will always
Find Sanctuary.

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