His fists would strike her so no one else would want her,
Her abuser, now lifeless, yet she is the monster.
He is sprawled out, naked upon the tiled floor,
His throat slit and bleeding; he could not hurt her anymore.
For one too many years she had suffered as a victim.
Many ears heard her but no one would listen.
They would nod and stare not bothering to understand,
That alone the reason for the bloody blade in her hand.
It screams, roars, wails and finally a howl,
This thing in front of me so unholy and foul.
Flesh hangs off its blackened, charred corpse,
Somehow it survived being burned at the touch of my torch.
It is ravenous now getting hungrier with the smell of my fear,
Its teeth biting into my flesh, the last things that I hear.