Vengeance

0 Comments

Tags:
  • Anger

    Vengeance

     

     

    Vengeance is my new lover, and once again she came, seeking pleasure from your pain. She is persistently unforgiving, and from Vengeance I can not sustain. Addictively I react to the shame, the shame you put on my name. My pleading is in vein, you’re blinded by the light of his flame, so at you I am forced to take aim.

     

    Vengeance is my new lover, and once again she came, seeking pleasure from your pain. Why do I complain, with us it could never be the same, because you have lost all your fame. No more memories just a stain, a stain that won't go away, a reminder of a life led astray. Now all that's left is the pain, the pain of yesterday.

     

     Vengeance is my new lover, and once again she came, seeking pleasure from your pain. I’m going in sane, standing here talking to my window pain. From taking a life I'm trying to refrain, sanity I am praying to regain. Even though you where yanking my chain, when you said you didn’t fuck what's his name. Can you feel my words, can you hear my pain,

     

    Vengeance is my new lover, and once again she came, seeking pleasure from your pain. I am not to blame. On you my lover lays all the shame, and vengeance is her name. Vengeance, Vengeance, I moan her name as she steadily strokes my vein, seducing me into playing in the rain. Retribution is her favorite game, but today I choose not to play.

     

    Vengeance is my new lover, and once again she came, seeking pleasure from your pain. Her prize I no longer wish to claim, vengeance mine, vengeance yours, it’s all the same, nothing left to obtain, from playing retribution I will refrain. Until tomorrow, when vengeance wakes, seeking pleasure from your pain, and I’m seduced all over again.

     

                    help me I’m going in sane!

     

     

    Poem Comments

    (0)

    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    TonyMonz’s Poems (19)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    I Understand 0
    Daughter I remember 0
    My Valentine 0
    REALITIES NIGHTMARE 0
    Shades of Gray 0
    Muscle Sexy 0
    Thoughts of death 0
    Iron Maiden 0
    Brittany 0
    Believed to be Me 0
    Five Eights For Forty 0
    Love is not Enough 0
    WELCOME TO THE MACHINE 0
    THE CANYON GRAND 0
    Bri 0
    My Sons 0
    Can’t you see what I see 0
    3369 0
    Vengeance 0