Storm

No one can house the anger in my churches pew,

Nothing can stop this storm from blowing in, out and through.

My body no longer can stand this beastly howl,

The vengeful shriek piercing my mind, consuming all that I am,

And all my potential.

She leaves me – our garden deserted,

The soul that has consumed far too much,

As the blood of women before me pool at my feet,

I grieve with them.

As my own life blood streams down my legs, I am no more to this world,

Than another vindictive feminist storm.