Twisting on the hook

The woman extracts casually what she needs as he watches in fear 
You must know it was harmless….he begins
To whom? Her eyebrow arches as no reply is heard
Pulling the cloak tighter she says quietly people can be broken 
There is a price to be paid, when we carelessly cause hurt, 
The scales weigh and measure the blackened removed heart 
You expect to hurt, cause pain, destroy and casually stroll away? 
His mouth opens and closes like a goldfish in a bowl, but no words 
What I have here barely covers the amount required to mend your damage 
So how do I get recompense? Her blackened nails tap finely on her chin 
She stands a slight woman, and smiles in a way he cannot comprehend  
What appears to be a ball of fire barrels forth from her widened jaws 
Freezing cold it hits him, where he is twisting on the hook and he is still now 
He opens his eyes and is in a different place, his own bed 
But her voice rings in his head recompense, recompense, recompense 
A dream, night terror, yes
But not the lonely trail of blood down his chest….

Ailsa

©AilsaCawleyPoetry2015

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