A Twist in Progress

A twist of fate,
A twist of hands.
Sitting alone
He wrings the man's neck
over and over again
in his mind
As if it'd change anything.
He can't hide the anguish on his face,
or the disdain he has for this sterile place.
All he can hear
is the painful scream
of his beautiful love, life, everything.
All he can see
is her once beautiful body
now pale and limp.
He'll never forgive that man
and He'll never forget the smell of alcohol
Envisioning the crash
while he waits for word
from the Doctors,
He hates this place.
It's either to help produce life
or to end life,
sadly his wife was not pregnant.
He prays her well,
while he sits alone,
mind twisted in agony.