In shadows deep, where silence screams,
A broken rhythm, shattered dreams.
Her spirit weeps, her voice held tight,
In the echo of a love turned blight.
His rage, a storm, relentless might,
Her face, a canvas, bruised in night.
But love's not found in fists or pain,
It thrives in kindness, not in disdain.
Let's rewrite this tale, redefine the art,
Where love mends wounds, not tears apart.
For hearts aren't meant to be punching bags or prey, But sanctuaries where love safely finds its way