Retribution from the grave

Warning: Contains obscene vulgarity produced by a twisted mind. Reader discretion adviced.
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Retribution from the grave (Writing game 6)

Hear the whisper from the dismal beyond,
the voice quelled by a resentful spouse.
Putrefaction is not precluded in a pond,
but the deed would no suspicion arouse.
The flesh and tissue he once adored,
dissolved to exhibit an exposure of bone.
Descended to murky depths unexplored,
my remains are held down with stone.

Was the relationship just a bore?
Did I not deserve you anymore?
Once the attention left your shore,
you told them all I was a whore.

There is no serenity for the early departed,
whose life was deprived by heinous violations.
Desperate for love which the heart had not charted,
my deviance attracted accusing allegations.
Infidelity is targeted by much critique,
yet be not rash when distributing blame.
Understand the concept of carnal intrigue,
when the man you bed is an extinguished flame.

As a wrinkled fruit having gone overripe,
his attraction was devoid of succulence,
yet the creep fancied a younger type,
which left me to nurture his sustenance.
Erotic interaction had declined to a routine,
monotonous attempts to revive the shrunken schlong,
but once the private eye had awaken to convene,
the session of love seldom lasted long.

Had I somehow done it wrong?
Did my service not please the dong?
You promised that if I played along,
you would grant my heart a place to belong.

Dukes exhibit elegance and sophistication,
yet they are no less faulty underneath the attire.
what woman would fancy an unhygienic abomination,
who forbade her to about his odor inquire?
He popped the cysts and it made me queasy,
putrid fluids oozed from the inflammation.  
His intimate demands left me quite uneasy,
but a woman's compliance is sealed with obligation.

Love cannot be forcibly accustomed.
All I wanted was a better husband.