deepundergroundpoetry.com

Revenge

I punched him on my last day,

Then I pinned him to the ground.

He tried to take the blade away,

But it was my toy

And I came to play.

From this day on

He will be ill.

“A door cracked,” my ears say,

but I was cleaving; slice not slay.

I gave a mouth to my throat

And let the red wine spill.

My palms kept his mouth open,

Like a cave,

For the red waterfall to fill.

He swallowed with a giggle;

I guess my bitter life tasted better!

But still, to the end of his,

He’ll taste how sweet is my rill.

This crimson ink will ache him forever.

I suddenly feel a chill!

My veins are dry,

My fingers are numb, and my body is weak.

With the lights fading out,

I went to sleep.

By AAA /:)
Written by Deucedaaa
Published | Edited 2nd Jan 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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