I long for vengeance
to creep up my neck
in the dark of night.
Whispering
‘Remember when…’
you surrendered
attachment
to pleasure, ambition
for castles of glass
to sink in a morass
of seething anger
drowning in your past,
falling slowly towards
the weedy disarray
to greet the cold,
barren ground.

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Published: Modern Ink

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