She hath wings

A regretful argument;
All swords drawn-
Scars busted open;
Bitterness born-
Children pleading,
” Make it stop!”-
Words unspoken;
Morale- drop
Pleasant words
Now put to bed;
Habit now to
Hurt instead-
Reflection needed;
Time alone-
Years to process
On my own.
Hellish nights,
I can’t see through;
Then I recall,
He is the glue-
Time in the Word
So swiftly spoken-
Counteracts lies
That left me broken-
Rising up,
I cross the room;
Trusting that
He’ll weave His loom;
Not my story,
Lest I forget-
He’s not finished
With us yet.

©️ 22.1.26 M. Patterson