He loves her
He paints her body shades grotesqueÂ
that scream the pain within her.
He keeps her silent - waiting, still -
Because he loves her.
He cannot help her with her thoughts
or let her sing her brilliant song.
He cannot hear her quiet cry -
Because he loves her.
She struggles, helpless, to be free,
to reach the Heaven from the Hell
of obscene captivity -
to break his frightened, desperate grasp -
Because he loves her.
He cannot bear to think of her
without him, living ecstasy -
Her thoughts her own, her feelings hers.
He cannot face it, cannot see -
Because he loves her.
She wonders what this love can be -
not passion, grace, or peaceful trust,
the love she thought she'd see.
Now so corrupt, of sinful mien -
to end it is her dream.
Once she's cut this evil chain
and seen the sunlight, felt the rain,
can she chance the flame of love?
Hope to trust a gentle man?
Learn to love again?
Can she cast her fate once more,
choose to be, united, free? -
Herself and something so much more,
to know the joy within herself -
Because she loves him?