PLEA OF THE CHEATING WIFE.

Oh! Storm won't you permanently retreat?
Why seek solace in a strong repeat?
I'm turning pale, leap off me I plea...
If I had the might I would surely flea.

I desire for my throat to boose the dreadful lump,
For I am drenched in fears and tears, I will succumb.
Peel not my melanin skin for my ignorance sake.
Put not my lifeless life at steak.

Won't your flaming bitter hight up my lair?
And your thunder bolts split me into a symmetrical pair?
Your wrath has no limes, can't you wear smiles for miles?
Why strike my fleshy crimes? Perhaps I look like chimes.

Won't your fast dashes, sharp slashes, hot flashes make me a lark dog
Rounded like a golf ball? I am now that who you dish flogs.
I crumble and perish, why punish me...you are not fur,
I once pardoned you but now that it's me you don't care.

Spare me my husband, cast me not in the grave.
Isn't there a lamb to quench your blood crave?
Let not your childish action disannoint me,
Nor your deeds be a treacherous mime.

This is my sad tale, scribble not the fetter of late.
I am no geat yet molten wrath flows into my gate.
Write me not in the look of bust lest I attract more fury,
My song is sung, my heel is stung, the torment I can't bury

Why turn my rear soul into a delish?
Why shower hail, your power is intoxicatingly devilish?
Oh storm! Rotate your amorphous hut ned
Behind you stands the one who lured me to his bed.

©PoetKhu
2018.