Hell hath no fury,
Said the Immortal Bard,
Like a woman scorned, he
Spoke the truth, and how
Was I to know the full force of fury,
When wronged.

She begged me for names,
For dates,
For places,
For happenings, again
And again,
And again, but
The blunder was to
Not understand
A woman’s mind, the price
To pay for
The truth.

The flesh is weak,
The spirit is weaker,
I have loved, and
Lost, not knowing
The price of truth.
Who was the fool
Who said, “the truth
Shall set you free”
I am in chains, and unable
To avoid
The fifty, the hundred, any more,
Lashes she gives me, every
Minute, every
Hour, every
Day, wishing
For death to set me free
From the price of truth.

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