Vengeance
Vengeance doesn’t mean death, it means letting the receiver spasm and quiver beneath your awe inspiring and powerful eyes, burning a hole through their silently sleeping shadow. Let the hatred flow when their riverbed of luck runs dry so the revenge is sweeter when the plot is thicker. Let them live in your denial, let them breathe the suspense you give them, leave time for you to mull over the perfect engraving to haunt them…Let them bow to your intelligence while you are distant in an odd, hauntingly eerie way. Let the words that flow seemingly easily and claw at the throat of humanity stay forever etched in their brains, thwarting them from fucking with you again. Let this be a perception of hunger and agony, befalling all civilization. Let this rot their souls, restoring the damned to the devil. Let this belittle and demean those that are deceitful. Let this release the confused and trapped, surrounding them in comfort and protection. Let this be a sheath for a double blade, one side darkness and the other light. Let your words echo in the hollows of their minds, in the chasms that dwell, causing convulsions of fear and the dimensions crowding within their listless minds forever leaving a scar that burns deep. Let this be the fiery fear that licks passionately at their heart when they see you. Let them careen down an empty path, gently reaching seclusion, while you remain indifferent. Let them wander the River of Sticks, only to be retrieved from the grip of the clammy and heralding hand of death, forbidding and tormenting. Let your woe be their dementia. Let your heartbreak be their thronging damaged senses. Let your heartache be their pathetic confusion. Let your tears be their nightmares. Let their soul rest in the palm of your hand. Let them writhe and squirm beneath the power, grace, sophistication and grandor of you and your hatred. Let their worst mistake be your encompassing core. Let them be intimidated by you, never letting them harness their fears to face you and be your competition. Let them lay awake at night, only able to picture your face within the confines of their mind and show no mercy. Let your pity be their hauntress. Let your feelings be their appetite for blood and hunger for sympathy. Let yourself be their everything. Let yourself become their lonely heart. Let yourself be their tormentor, but be alone… Let them come to you, let their fates be their own doing and be their pitfalls of the night and day. Let your eyes bestow a gruesome despair, greater than any reality they have ever seen. Let their paranoia be your thirst for air. Let them be the hunted, stalking them, as predator would prey. Let your spite be their wilted souls. Let their humiliation enchant the oath of brethren only provoking fellowship and gratitude. Let the fiery passion the burns within create an orb of destruction forever preventing the chaos to explode, surpassing the full element of life.
7/29/05