Dominatrix

She stands there. Dark. Uncompromising. Ruthless. No appeal can turn her. She has no heart at all. I fear her. Fear her lack of mercy. Doesn’t penitence move her? Penitence is an after-thought. It is for the next time.

“Whose wrong, I cry? Who judges”, I argue.

“Mine”, she says, “and me, alone”.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s