Madness reigns
as the tormentor
waves her magic wand —
stirring, whirling, executing
the perfect storm

Delighting in the chaos,
she spears her vulnerable victim
and laughs as she watches her crumble
Slurping blood from cracked bones
only empowers her cruelty

Madness rains,
falling from storm clouds
she created from her own
insecurity, faults, and failures
as if she could wash them away

Her animosity never wavers,
almost buoyed by her own self-hatred
An ego inflated by popping
every balloon within her reach
She is the monster under the bed

Madness reins in
any sense of decency in her
little world, bound by conflict
she creates one word at a time
day after day after day

until that moment…

A weakened victim found her voice,
emboldened by a chorus
formed to share the burden
Together, they shouted Enough
And with that, the evil witch was gone




photo: Flickr – Mary Crandall
prompt: #OctPoWriMo2018 – Day 17