An Ancient Lullaby

I wrote this poem four or five years ago.  I was, shall we say, a tad peeved when I wrote it.  Obviously, I never did act upon my desire for revenge.  I let karma work everything out.  Plus, writing about evil deeds is so much more fun than acting them out because in fiction you can maim the individual not just one time, but over and over, and in various fashions, without ever ruining your nails or going to jail.  Not that I have nails to ruin.  But if I did, maintaining my perfect nails would definitely be a perk.

An Ancient Lullaby

The righteous path was never;
Septic blade
Pierced your side.
The pretty pose delivered
Fixed a burn within, the fuel
To steal a life and set things right,
An ancient lullaby.

Your buried wrath unfolds;
Dismiss your fears,
Blind your eyes.
The martyr will raze
All blood and bones and lies.
You sigh triumphant,
An ancient lullaby.

The deepest pockets of earth
Cannot hold
Your savage cries.
The remnants of sorrow take flight,
Caustic tears sting your eyes.
The betrayed now requited.
An ancient lullaby.

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