Printable Broken Chain Poem Novels & Stories

His words struck harder than any blow, sharper than any blade. Punishment. The syllables reverberated in my chest, tearing through bone and breath until I could barely feel the ground beneath my feet. For a moment, I forgot the blood on his shirt, the fight that still echoed faintly in the night air. I forgot the car that had just vanished into the shadows. All I saw was him, Kenneth Diego, standing before me like a broken monument. His chest rose and fell, each breath ragged, like the words had ripped something out of him too.

Sara screamed in pain, as she fell to the grass, Wallowing in pains As she laid there, moaning and screaming Rubble tried to protect her from the woman who had tormented them both their whole lives. Jumping over the nearly unconscious girl the loyal dog tried to cover Sara from his mother’s fury, caring only that his girl, the girl who gave his entire life purpose, was in trouble.

Axen looked at me without a speck of emotion on his face and said. "I accept. Our bond is broken with the blessing of the Goddess.' Axen tried and failed to hold back another howl. In the end he let loose a loud heart breaking cry that felt like a dagger to my heart, then fell back hitting the hard Chapel floor with a thud.

He could start crying, but would it help? Thaddeus remembered several other boys who had been caught up in this dark, rat-infested alleyway alone with the older boys. It was a saga he was quite familiar with, you either end up losing your money or you cry home with a scraped knee and a broken nose. If he stayed, similar fate awaites him. If he ran, he might get lucky. "Too dull to pause, or make an end..." A line from a poem whose title seemed fuzzy in his head.

Gently, I lifted my fingertips to the shadows beneath my eyes, touching it gingerly, caressing the mark of my enslavement as I gazed into one of the many mirrors that adorned the gilded walls of the throne room Enslavement. My teeth ground together at the thought of the word, my fangs threatening to burst forth. Breathe. He can sense weakness. Heavy, hot, and uncomfortable, shame washed over me, settling itself familiarly into my bones. We were once strong, feared. Now we live in fear, we are made to be weak. Me and my werewolf brethren, gods turned to slaves. Burning, the air filled my lungs, each breath both a gift and curse. Breaking the silence, the sound of a lively fire filled the larg

“Broken night?” Janice questioned. She had been led in as usual, and sat, still cuffed, across the table from Byron. “Hmm?” Byron looked at her, appearing confused. “That's what my mom used to call it when nightmares or something kept waking you up— a broken night.” “Oh,” now he began to understand. “Yeah, it looks like you had one.” “You could say that for sure.” “That's okay, I did too. I was dreaming about Lacey all night, Lacey and that damn snake.”

Earlier that night Amy just finished her homework, she was too exhausted o shower, so she got dressed and went to bed. not fully slept off, Amy heard her room open. it was nobody else but her father, he smelled boosed alcohol and cigarettes. Then I knew why he came to my sleep, my whole body was shaking in fear. He was completely wasted, that he fell to the ground. Finally, God had answered my prayers, I quickly packed my belongings as fast as I can, and speed Riley to pick me up from the house.

But now… that dream seemed like a distant memory, slipping further away with each passing moment. Tears streamed down my face as I tugged and pulled at the cold chain that now bound me, but it was useless. The metal didn’t give, and with every desperate attempt to free myself, my hands only grew more bruised. My chest tightened with the suffocating weight of it all, the overwhelming sense of powerlessness threatening to drown me. The sobs came in ragged gasps, my body shaking violently as the tears blurred my vision. This was too much—too far. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t chain me up like I was some animal.

He straightened slowly, ash flecking his shoulders. “Whatever you’re doing,” he said hoarsely, “keep doing it.” “Working on it,” I muttered. I tested another idea on a different chain, the one snapping toward Jax. Split. The word flashed through my mind, through the pen, into the metal’s path. A fault line raced down its length. The instant Jax’s pipe connected, the chain fractured along that hairline crack. Each half veered off, whipping past him instead of around him. One clipped his shoulder hard enough to spin him sideways; he cursed but stayed upright.

The loud cry tore out of my chest. PRRRRRAAAA! The chains in my hand broke free.