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Introspective

I wish it were over the terrible pain,
Pang after pang again and again;
First the shattering ruining blow,
Then the probing steady and slow.

Did I wince? I did not faint:
My soul broke but was not bent;
Up I stand like a blasted tree
By the shore of the shivering sea.

On my boughs neither leaf nor fruit,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Pietro 6 28 February 2016

Is the elegance of poetry this woman. Excellent. The suffering is this.

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M Asim Nehal 22 December 2015

I did not start when the torture stung, I did not faint when the torture wrung; Let it come tenfold if come it must But I will not groan when I bite the dust.

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Shakil Ahmed 27 November 2015

beautiful poem, thanks

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