7
You don’t realize how much you’ve suffered until you find relief from the suffering, but you quickly forget what that true suffering was. It becomes an afterthought. Suffering folds into those mundane portions of existence, a distant experience you will never encounter again – until you do. Before that memory fades, how sweet is The vengeance, lit by The resentment, burning bright as The anger!
How it pyres upwards!
A warm incense to whatever gods remain – if any.
To myself.
Let the phoenix rise, fueled in the rush of vengeance! Does the vulture not fly free above a wildfire? Does it not sustain flight through liberal pickings of The vengeance’s spoils?
Let a new freedom be rung by each flap of wing!
Vengeance is mine!
To envision “an eye for an eye,” another fulfilled prophecy!
What satisfaction, to take the life they took from her!
I would say it’s the purpose of existence!
The vengeance.
That thrill of diving from the heavens as a hawk towards their prey!
Watching them pray for mercy to gods they never believed in their whole life.
Watching them beg for life.
Intently, into my eyes they plea.
As a heron plans their strike in triumphant resilience; withstanding the suffering of existence – enduring patience.
So do I arise and await that moment of vengeance!
For, what joy is the hunt!
Have I not become Nimrod, that powerful hunter?
Have I not become El, head above the council of gods?
Vengeance is mine!
