Silent Storms Poem by Death's Shadow

The deed is done,
the knife is red,
the war has begun.

There is no turning back,
it is a battle of wills,
who wants peace more.

You yell and grab the knife,
he says I'll kill her,
I say it's no big deal, I'm fine.

When hours seem like weeks,
and days seem like years,
silent storms rage,
and indecision plagues the mind.

Every day,
I die a little more
trying to protect him
and trying to let no one see,
we are not at peace.