Distained Deniability
Clench those fists dear Soul
Whatever planes of existence you can mutter on to
You were caught along in a snare for no wild game
A disrespect for life, and that was all
By the musings of foolish souls lost long ago by their musings
And greed for a name;
A legacy
For whatever that is worth
Should you yourself carve a name in a stone that will not erode with time like the rest?
How many stories told after you,
Would rest your dead soul to peaces?
But yes, keep clenching those fists,
Oh thy soul that seeks vengeance
For chance can be a playful angel
Or a wicked demon
And after your hands are done and free of being sore from these aggressions,
You can be better suited as a redeemer fit
To take up the Maker's Pen
The only answer that made the most sense, from at the core of thy beating chest
Though fate may have had it otherwise,
The time that you can't deny any longer is at your finger tips
Tender
Stained with a lust so splendor
Of life blood, inked, out poured
And a world of your own
To be the Judge, The Jury,
And the Executioner
A deteriorating corpse of a fallen warrior
Who's sword was just traded -
For words of sharp edges, that reach much farther
P