She once stood in front of me
and in silence painted the
picture of what our lives would
be if l do not shatter the fragile
tick-tock clock in her chest.
Believing all the tales she told me
with the vile tongue of a woman in love
I then cocked my hands in hers
and prayed with her in one accord
as the priest pronounced us married.
It did not take long for me to see
the back cover of the story which
she wrote but never told me of
what she intended to do with me
if l agreed to protect and love her.
Then l saw it coming but kept
mute and lived like nothing was
coming my way to destroy my heart
only for her to draw the last straw
to make me take the decision to
look for my father's house before
her raging storm consumed me.