Your tormentor is dead,
mere dust on your soul.
He can no longer hurt
you and seize control.

The love you give his
boys, your puissance,
will guide them through
childhood, adolescence.

They need their mother
to remain strong, brave.
Their love for you is
that which you crave.

Your sacrifice won't go
unnoticed or be in vain.
Unless you burden them
with lifetime blame.

I feel your pain, but can't
sheathe that blade.
Put it down, cuddle me,
please Jade.

Russell Boyle