Better without

Tis this black thus felt by all, thus felt by all but one.  
With an eerie lightish glow at form through these grey clouds above.
A gathering is now at mourn too the morbid sounds of their tears hurt and loss as family and friends embrace each other under the sanctity of their Gods almighty cross.
So deeply cut are all, with this fellow man struck down from life, one taken too early tis said.
Such a moral tragedy to be leaving alone his poor broken wife.
A widow so broken tis true.
Yet her aches and these pains hold no ties too the death of her now lost lover true.
For no one but only one tis in the knowledge of the spiteful demon that once occupied this wretched excuse of a man.  
Tis a tale of darkend blood a domestic onslaught to where the grasps of justice held no new light at all.
A devilish discust, twas a violent reign to which he ruled his throne.
With his vile tongue he spoke forth a depravity from the depths of the black.
She was forever caught and beaten between his rage and his fists, some bruises will just never heal. A vicious and grinding force was all this wayward angel ever  new to be real.
Tis well known that "Hell hath no fury like a women scorned"
Now a fury beyond control twas what this fool had reborn.
With lips as deep as dragons blood, tis the taste of retribution salivating on her tongue.
A blinding light of vengeance char's and smolders dangerously through out our tainted lovers eyes, a line in the sand with a heavy hand. Now her no longer innocent mind is immensely consumed with the menacing thoughts of eradication,
Tis time for this pigs official degradation.
Too burn, too boil too ravage and tare, twas all amongst a savaging fire too her lovers dispare.
This temptress cunning cover up, as she was never there. Such a devastation for this community not in the know.
But for this angel reborn tis a new life she can sow.