Vendetta
strange, but he never expected
things to finally turn out this way;
this is supposed to be the moment
he has been aching for to happen,
to at last be able to gloat over
the misfortune, defeat and dying
of a most loathsome, feared enemy
whose very existence he detests;
but with his foe now bedridden,
crumpled, wasted and wizened,
vulnerable and uncomprehending,
he has lost any craving for revenge,
for the final and fatal blow, strange;
yet there's a hollow satisfaction
as he looks down on a sallow mask
that stares blankly up from a pillow;
to the sad relatives, friends around
who have scrunched into the room,
he mumbles weary words of sympathy,
unfeeling words that hang in the air,
sounding distant and, yes, insincere !
Copyright © Romeo Naces | Year Posted 2007
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