Vendetta

Vendetta. Not much more to it.

 

In the darkness of the night;

Blood in shadows pouring cold

The spoils of a blackened spite;

Results of hatred long grown old.

 

Fire burning in the mind,

One who longs to seal a vow.

In revenge they seek to live;

To reap the evil seed they sow.

 

Lasting grudges taint the soul,

Soon the darkness they embrace.

Causing them to make a goal;

In their hate meet face to face.

 

Hours spent alone in thought,

Forcing blood to boil and bubble.

Anger burns the skin white hot,

Turns compassion into rubble.

 

Hatred turning into spite,

In their fury grab a knife.

Lurking the shadowed night,

Soon to ease their hardened strife.

 

Unawares the victim shows,

Open for the killer's blade.

Blood spurts forth in death throes,

The price of pacts the killer made.

 

The vengeful one now eased of hate,

So feels the pangs of fear and guilt.

The evil now has sealed their fate,

Their darkened soul in which was built.

 

An evil seal, Vendetta black,

Causing friends to turn their backs.

Hatred to the ones they loved,

Into void compassion shoved.

The deed once done leaves emptiness,

A task that none alive impress;

But leave instead a mark of evil.

The fires of hate burn hot with sin,

And forever a scream so shrill,

Breaks the peace they had to begin.

Author's Note

Restoring my old writing finally. This is a pretty old poem of mine, and one of my few but favorite rhyming poems.

Reviews

[Wolf_motaki]

Lovely poem. Amazing pictures created. Beautiful.

[Gary L. Amoe]

:: Applause :: That was excellent! Your use of imagery is incredible, rather that just cluttering things up it serves a purpose and lends much to the over all read. Thank you for sharing this piece.