Flooding

I hear the woman's voice say, "Be warned, there will be some flooding."
What does she mean by that word? With dread my heart starts thudding.
It does not take long, I soon discover, the pictures are in full bloom.
As the images seep into my tortured mind, I fear they will be my doom.

Are they true? Are they accurate? These visions of him and his lover?
Dozens of questions creep into my mind, when will I ever discover
the truth of these dramas, do I want to know, the facts of these pictures so new
Or should I hide behind the old adage, "What you don't know won't hurt you."

Why do cruel images ruthlessly haunt me so, giving me no relief?
Perhaps this nightmare is all my fault, I deserve this horrible grief.
I beat my head against the wall, I cry myself to sleep.
These pictures will not leave me alone, their torment I fear I must reap.

What a high price the reaper demands for those many months of play.
Torture, endless torture is the lot I've drawn, for someone must surely pay.
But why must I suffer night and day when I did not mold the charade.
It's the name of the game, a score must be settled, when a loved one is cruelly betrayed.