The Vulture

March 20, 2017
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On my quest for seeking answers, I found solace in New Hampshire
In that house that held my sorrows, mem’ries that are forever mine,
I thought back to that fateful evening, when my wife had gone careening,
Struck by steel and glass and rubber, breaking my life and her spine.
And the man who did this to me, that drunk, had gotten off just fine.
     But vengeance one day will be mine.

Suffering I knew aplenty, losses I had suffered many,
Grieving had consumed my life, and it my life now had defined,
All due to this accursed drunk, who had reduced my life to junk,
When he struck my wife and caused my life to unravel and untwine.
Innocently my wife had died, for her fate God had assigned.
     But vengeance one day will be mine.

Angered now, I turn to drinking, to soothe my mind and halt my thinking,
The liquor burns and fills me with warmth, as, with haste, I down a stein.
Pleasure bursts from deep within me, happiness the liquor brings me,
Mem’ries fade away from me now, dwindling along with the wine.
But one thing stays deep within me, an urge that I won’t let resign.
     That of vengeance, soon to be mine.

As I finish off a bottle, towards my chamber I start to toddle,
When, to me, an urge appears, to walk among the forest pine.
Trees will share my endless sorrow, will know my fear of my tomorrow,
Trees will know my sufferings, share mem’ries that are forever mine.
To the pines I will tell my life, of pain and hate and harsh decline.
     And of vengeance, soon to be mine.

At the outskirts of the forest, I am greeted by a chorus,
Of bitter winds, each biting at my body with their sharpened tines.
Swallowed by the endless pine trees, I pressed forward, with strange unease,
Consumed by the densely packed and stoic, cold, unfeeling pines,
And the chilling unseen presence, as if watched by one divine,
     Full of vengeance, soon to be mine.

In my drunken state I wandered; I continued, pressing onward,
‘Til I couldn’t find my way within the forest’s dense confines.
Into labyrinth I had fallen, land once familiar now turned foreign
When a wingéd demon appeared, sent by one who is divine.
A vulture, with a wretched gaze, that revealed to me it was not benign
     “Vengeance”, it croaked, “Will be mine”.

“Begone!” I yelled at the foul being, “Go, let this exchange be fleeting!”
As I turned and ran away to escape the wrath divine.
The bird took flight and swooped down towards me, talons outstretched and coming for me,
And sunk its claws into my skin, and tore into my exposed side.
As I batted it away it cackled and with much malign,
     “Vengeance”, it hissed, “Will be mine.”

From that wretched forest I fled, only by pure fear was I lead,
To that from which I came, the vulture chasing close behind.
That evil bird behind me glaring, I listen to the
radio, blaring
Of a prison which had been, by chance, ignited at that time.
And a single man had died for he was trapped in his confines.
     “Vengeance”, I hear, “Is now mine.”






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