< I would like to apologize you missing that error in my pervious post,
if the line we not vital to the poem I would have left it. Again, I am
sorry. >

A Promise to the Betrayer


I have a promise to you - betrayer,
Benign I no longer believe in, you
In your words have assured that my patience,
Thick and calloused, has been shaven thin.
Wicked knifes, poniards of lies sans steal,
My flesh, my heart resisting, as you tore
Through the skin - veins - arteries - truth,
And left me, raped of my dignity,
Stripped of belief in you,
A pit hollowed in my stomach,
The passive victim.
And when you finally tired of torturing me,
My face streaked with clear blood - tears,
I turned down my countenance, and found fault in me.
Were it not for the moons faceless compassion,
Whose light filtered down across my bloodied face, her
Pure touch of compassion! Without lies!
O silvery blue truth, I should have thought forever fault was to be
found in me and mine!
But now! Distorted feelings, conceptions, wax into hatred,
Crystallized helplessness, not but a memory now,
Metamorphosis. In me.
I have a promise for you betrayer.
Those curdled words, accusations empty of truth,
No longer will I let lie,
Nor will I forget the defilement.

O yes! I have a promise for you betrayer:
Lie not alone at night.
I have changed,
And I come for you.

< Once again, I am sorry for the repeat, and as always, comments are
encouraged and welcomed. >

Penned by my hand on the 4th of Severin, in the year 115 MA.