blood of marble

a man sat wheezing,
he was old but not frail,
he sat sweating,
his hair waving as if a sail.

a girl lay near,
white as marble,
she looked frozen,
as if no emotion was able.

a white sheet,
blood in the middle,
her head on a pillow,
once soaked in tears.

pearly white mist,
rose around her marble body,
the mist formed a figure,
its mouth wide open, its eyes bloody.

then came the sounds,
their house rattling and shaking,
then came the yells,
and his heart stopped beating.

invisible hands around his throat,
killing him was what they had sought,
it was over before it began,
he had gone, there just laid his body, once a man.

her mother woke up confused and alone,
where was he?
where had he gone?

she found him in the foyer,
sprawled on the floor,
she had found her husband,
who had died reaching for the door.

she cried,
she whispered,
she begged,
and she hoped.

a cruel laugh came,
a cruel laugh went,
life moved on,
and she found out what his death had meant.

it meant freedom for her child,
it meant sleep,
it meant life could move on,
her child had no more reason to weep.

she played on the swings,
as any kid should,
she laughed and smiled,
as much as someone so scarred could.

her life was never normal,
nor was she,
but she had her revenge,
and she did break free.