Villian Era

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For a fleeting moment,

My anger flew.

A hawk ready to strike.

Ready to create

Fatal wounds.

So fast,

So agile,

I almost didn't notice...

But I caught it

By it's neck

And crushed it.

But,

I will admit,

I hesitated.

What would happen

If I were to...

Let go?

Poems of Gothic Love, Tragedy, and MoreWhere stories live. Discover now