Divided Torment

Through the clash and thrash clouds survive,
standing still; men of sin wait.

Her beauty, her grace, persuades and sways the gate
'Tis her beauty that engulfs the rage,
for now their love is bound unto their cage.

Hatred snarls and blows, with icy veins of cold,
only to the pure their tongues stained with mold.

To live odd and alone
There is to be no mercy shown.

Hordes of anger decide both fates,
hence there be space for two inside the crowded crate.

Strangle the evil so two shall be spared,
for eyes only their soul's will be snared.

'Tis a brutal deed
for she'll bare no seed.

All for a night of power and tread,
for tis now they lay in bed.

Watchers care to bare no more,
for their plague of indecency is closed of that open sore.