In The Dead Of The Night Again

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Again, in the dead of the night
He threw himself at me in my bed
You would think I would resist him and fight
But the will to fight is lost from my head

I am meant to be the house-help
But he’s turned me into a fleshly slave
Ravishing me, no matter how much I yelp
Oh God, when will this man behave?

I have heard that some men are beasts
Now I live with one under the same roof
He devours me like delicacies in feasts
And please don’t ask me for the proof.

I know what I’m talking about
Even if you don’t want to believe me
I’m no better than a down-and-out.
But this is not what I’m meant to be.

His wife is loving, good and attractive.
She doesn’t know the evils of her husband.
About that, I’m definitely positive
But that doesn’t mean I understand.

She says her husband is a kind gentle man
May be that’s true with her and other people
But to me he is a ravenous and wicked human
Without conscience, without an iota of scruple.

See also the precursor poem: In the dead of the night


©Copyright 2018 | Victor Uyanwanne

3 Replies to “In The Dead Of The Night Again”

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