Sweet as sugar,
Cold as ice,
Touch her once
And she'll strike you twice.
Born from fire,
Cooled from lava.
Given a heart, sculpted from coal.
Lived through a lot,
Faced all lords.
None showed pity,
None showed mercy.
Her face masks her emotions,
The sculpted heart locks the book.
Her book of life, that rendered and tore
Like a broken saw.
Worships none,
Obeys none,
Follows none.
Her demeanor, like that of the sea.
Impossible to control,
Impossible to restrain.
Mocking and taunting her,
The antagonist wields his blade,
Devising his moves.
Her eyes tells her story,
Her grudge for this man
Her brown orbs glowing like molten lava.
He laughs at her, daring her,
Challenging her to strike first.
A blur of movement
And his last laugh.
The glacial pang of pain from her dagger,
Of ice, frozen from a poisoned well.
His life a history,
Her name and demeanor a mystery.
Her spirit of vengeance still resides.
Her revenge in this apocalyptic world,
Bright like the fire blistering in the realm of Hestia.
YOU ARE READING
Ballads Of Confession
PoetryWhen an emotion has found thoughts, and the thoughts have found words...... -Robert Frost
