Psalms of Fire: Bloodletting

Vengeance against self

To what honor does come from the bodes to vanity in versus to the honor that comes in standing against the emasculation of each our own truth.
To what honor comes upon you, my simple- my lame. From stolen words, in curse! You speak my name. Plagerist from spitting lip- these are my own tongues you wreak against.
Invalid! I have spilt much of innocent blood, spewing the undeserving to soak this deviled ground. What say I to my inconsolable pasts, but to lay down meek; by my own reflection we have been the same... but to lay down meek is to dishonor the children I have slain.
So continue your ills against: this my rise and for you, the witless mind, allow for me to summize:

Here is yesterday and this is how I extirpated her from future scribe. To respect the unnecessary dead, I will take from you your tongues against. And speak again? Though tongueless, a furthered disrespect? Then know:

Graciously, your bloodletting- shall I commence. Honoring the blood I have let.

Reviews

[sette]

i like the last line of the poem quite deep and very symbolical