• R. E. Maynard

The Revengeful Dance of a Ravaged Broken Heart

A heartbroken tore at her soul’s darkened attempts to defeat despair, far too much grieves memories tortured this lady’s kind spirited affair with passions known. Time bent on her behalf; while lost in a trance these bad memories violated her burdensome soul. She lost her sense of reality in his kind advances that had somehow suddenly changed to a heart of stone.

She knew not of the wicked practices of a loveless man’s shameful endeavors. He sought to dispel her respects and gained his pleasurable advances upon her naiveté, as most victims had no other option than to feel shamed by his lack of concern. The voice of reason he used was a captivating spell and, his handsome looks were too much for women to not realize were a nightmare come true.

The Revengeful Dance of a Ravaged Broken Heart

A practice of pleasuring him fulfilled her sexual pleasures with fantasies of his design, and she gave her whispers to this indecent man’s curiosities. Just a touch of her flesh caused him to rip her to the core like a ravaged beast. He beat her down into abusive treatments until less and less esteem existed in her heart. She lost sight of her confidence to look people straight into their eyes, and he held her will–tricked into submission, she gave into his desires.

The eyes tell no lies, so does a lady’s soul speak ever more sensitively about a loving affair grown infectious. After years of giving herself to men whom owed her willfully, she now featured a damsel in destress personality. He knew of her sense of insecurity, always shown in every emotion dealt from her broken spirit, because even a strong woman as she once was–had to eventually except that her dealings with a man’s lack of concern numbed her rightfully.

He left her in a caged spirited fate every single day, forcing himself onto her at night. He took full advantage of her willingness to favor his satisfactions. She wilted in a season of blossoming engagements. The festivities led her to witness a whole slew of carrousel emotions from a wedding season grown hysterical in her brow. She waded into the abyss while dealing with his ignored contemplations for weighing her dream to wed adoringly. In an attempt to gain her self-control back from such an empowered dissatisfaction, she tainted his morning juice with a dose of a poison ivy. She awaited his reaction patiently; knowing of his deathly infliction would consume him quickly, then in a dead stare did she sat slumber at ease without a concern for his last breath.

She knelt down by his lifeless body speaking her last whispers for his now forsaken pleasures missed, and kissed him once more for her retreat from his poorly known affections dealt. A lady’s heart ravaged with revenge, emotionless to his departure, she leapt to her feet and danced a joyful concern for a life of freedoms renewed. She turned herself into the authorities, knowing that she had traded one prison for another.

– R. E. Maynard

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