Comprehending Beauty in Pain

there is no eerie silence
solitude is forever broken
by gobbling cries of anguish
through the grilled window

as red as old wine
her wounds stand out
like reluctant stigmata
in her mind’s palms

she drinks the wine
of her story of conviction
the splash of baby’s blood
like sacred communions

she remembers his soft throat
yielding delicately under her knife
her lover’s mistress son
all of five years old

Tears keep her alive
Such hatred for him
transfers into his son
his loin’s sinfully begotten

Facing the jury
looking at her in fury
she knows she's sensual
in her red mini skirt

she gobbles in morbid laughter
as she sits alone in her cell
all gone now, she screams
laughing through her tears

they call her Lethal…
she believes they are mistaken
she is just a beautiful
woman, wronged.