The Payback
She came with a wound and kindled flame
Her silver eyes brimming sore from restriction,
Her sorry lips cautiously treaded in a ballet
As she spewed the sharpest blades of sabers
Slowly, they lunged at me like the drizzles
Carefully aborted for the final fertilization
Of this barren town of peccadilloes and ghosts
She spoke with the sound of a rainy eve—
Of the most powerful vengeance;
Of the most puissant and malleable force:
A forgiveness that shall humble
The most arrogant and lofty towers
I yearned for the shrilling rapier
Like sequestered starlights
Crawling to the ashen cheeks
Of a lonely waxing moon
And as I bled before her statuesque pose
Her doe eyes rummaged for a patch
That needed to be purged and dabbed
Whilst her eyes wandered yonder
To the sunward slopes of faith
And the cascading sun behind the squall
Before her, I am thickened callus
Putrefied by a thousand caligniosity
The downpour beats its wings harder
And when I begged not to grovel
She set the walls in frenzied flames
Her arson audacity loomed
Amongst the prancing flames
And this was a perfect retribution,
A subtle yet flagrant death
Of a seeded misanthropy
With anvil-weight and a life
A little dandelion-pace late.
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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