Total Avengement

The ultimate retribution has risen from mother earth’s hymen that was so savagely broken.
Revenge will be reaped, they will die for everyone reaps what they sow, and what they have sown they shall get back ten fold.
By their dual edged tongues they lived.
Live by the sword and so shall you die.
He will carve a reckoning through the guilty and repentance shall not provide absolution from sin.
Engulfed in darkness his souls guiding light, stripped and rebuilt for the fight, where once was he weak now he is strong, he sets out to scour the land and right the wrong.

The reaper brings his dark charges into line they walk the soil that granted him birth. Under the backdrop of black, a frost bitten night illuminated only by silver moonlight a colossus shape shifts orbited by many black ellipse.
Emerging from the woods they spread north to begin the campaign.

“They will know my name, and so will it be inscribed on histories consciousness a scar on the landscape as telling as a crater.
They caused my death and as people begin to lose their lives the utterance on their breath will be my name, as they learn of my rebirth; an annihilation begins”

Moving quickly and in blood curdling fashion the attack begins.
Dark hands grasp in ghostly silence, the translucence betrays the strength, flesh is ripped from a small but growing preliminary rent, with blood splatter and jets hitting the floor they were once alive but now are no more.

With the continued assault came no revolt and with every life shed the darkness was fed, the dead assimilated to work for the one they murdered, their spirits blackened and transmogrified hideous in sight as they were in essence before.
This event will be the new lore of exclusion and respect and no more should this swarm be needed.

A black blanket envelops all; seeing the eradication complete the reaper stands in silence and berates a society that made this necessary, and far from being cold, this once boy now reaper knows only too well the price of hate, and so now do the recipients of this act, and with every empty home and ghostly darkened road, all this was avoidable.
Far from desolation there should be life and the reaper hopes that when people learn of this plague they learn this lesson.

Written by SonofHowarth
© 2010 SonofHowarth All Rights Reserved
(From the collection "Midnight on Moonlight)

The vulnerable heart listens as he speaks in slurs left behind in haste, tip of a glass, whiskey laced.

Empowerment in his drunkard, staggering left to right, swaying this way and that, I stand stuck to this place, feet firmly planted, poise in my stance and pity in a glance.

Twinkle Twinkle fuck me fifty, had a drink last night, found I liked whiskey.
Whiskey costs a mouth full and my words mean nothing, say but for the sorrowful awaiting a bar stool, as I fall from mine to crawl across filthy cold in search of souls to quench my thirst in empty bottles on the fucking floor.

Rock a bye I stammer to my shadows in faned power, shake of the fist, kissed the cheek of the door geek. Send rose to his cheeks, sickly feeling to my gut clenching and belly aching to unlistening ears.

A man with least contact weak to the calculated hand playing ring a round a Rosie with his emotions.
Had a notion... an epiphany, that men were toasting to the fall of clothes from the woman's spirit, curse her...she only does what you say, what you do. And that makes her less then the gum spit from her mouth and stuck to your shoe as you step over the trash you
take out....
To dinner, drinks....sheets filthy and stained with the bitter after taste that he would say...be anything to feed on her longings....

Had a thought...crossed my heart that angels aren't meant to fall to their knees before those unequal and undeserving but only stand over them, shielding them from the evils that walk in dark alleys....

Only to lead them too the pain they inflict on the unsuspecting ignorant, lest they be idiots....whores...cloaked in the same dressings they ripped from untouched and unbitten skins.

Let them wear the words of the lashed and the victimized, let them be freed from chains of hypocrisy and stand to hold firmly side to side with the sufferings they kissed in thorns upon the head of the brittle heart.

Can they wear the scars as gracefully as we or are men as weak as their ignorant curses and as strong as a few moments in undignified motions pressing a shaky form to bed with his demons never to know innocence in a glance again?
Down on bended knee I sway....

Make the beggars, the takers face the reflection of what they steal, let them see in the mirror the coldness in a touch, force them watch what they wish to hold walk to death on weary feet that couldn't bare the suffering of walking on broken glass you scatter amid the trails of bleeding souls behind.
Let them hold their own heart in their hand powerlessly watching the chill of reality draining its beating...let them seek the same end that was written by the calculated hand that stole all of what was had...
left only sorrow on the nightstand....

Tears to dry in awakened eyes...

Her heart held in her grasp as it takes its leave of absence in a staggered beating step...

Buckle your shoe love...
The fall will smear your makeup...

   
I'll tell you what you were.    
   
You were a notch on my bed post,    
locker room bragging rights.    
   
You were a cunt to receive my dick,    
a receiver of my wet dream's emissions.    
   
You were a blonde to follow the redhead,    
not as good as the brunet.    
   
You were way too short, barely up to my chin,    
not fun size at all.    
   
Your boobs were so small, most boys have more,    
couldn't fill a training bra.    
   
You were skinny, arms bony and legs gangly,    
all skeletal angles and points.    
   
You were a slippery mouth with a wet double jointed tongue,    
that swallowed my cum.    
   
Your mop head's hair, never combed, much less fixed,    
made good handles to hold your mouth around my cock.    
   
Your eyes were out of a cartoon, shadowed like a raccoon,  
one green and one blue.    
   
Your fingers were anorexic, without the grip of a noodle,    
barely good to stroke me before I entered you.    
   
Your ass was something to grip with my hands,    
as I unload my cum inside you.    
   
That's why I ignored you when I was with my guys.    
   
So why did it shatter my heart, cause me to sink to my knees,    
and wish I could die?    
   
When you walked out of my life, with a tear in your eye,    
and whispered over your shoulder,    
"I loved you."