A Violent Villanelle

My first try at a Villanelle, dedicated to Skye

Nothing can push her spirit down.
As angry words echo through the hall,
Tears fall as if the eyes could drown.

Those eyes were once a joy filled brown,
Belonging more to a porcelain doll.
Nothing can push her spirit down.

Fists rip through a tangled crown,
Secrets of shame-no help to call,
Tears fall as if the eyes could drown.

No dimpled relief, instead a frown,
As the phone shatters against the wall.
Nothing can push her spirit down.

He hits and calls her whore of the town,
She continues standing tall.
Tears fall as if the eyes could drown.

He grabs her and continues to pound.
She feels the hurt, but does not fall.
Nothing can push her spirit down.
Tears fall as if the eyes could drown.