No guts to ***** a meager Mea Culpa?

Appoline Poems

No guts to ***** a meager mea culpa ? Were you begging me to spare you, man Trudging on the floor raising your shabby swords I would still silence you saying, ''Any last words?'' Separating your soul from this soil, despising your wan... Your blood would flow, your pain would glow Appearing obvious under my enameled blades However, I would remain in the reassuring shades Watching your pride wiggle and wail, hearing you swallow The shame that would strike you at your utmost. As soon as you cursed me, I hated you the most Do not rely on your ideal, this is your ordeal Your dreaded nightmare, except that it is now real! Were you begging me to forgive your mistake I would only whisper that you are now at stake You did choose to solve this case in your lull Tell me, were you tortured and was this as dull As this devouring pain cursing through your body? Years went by and you ignored my fading name Uttering in your sleep that I was surely the one to blame Feel it, tremble under it, this is your deserved agony You thought it was a sporadic game, dices to roll You have played with numbers, and you stabbed our love Livid will turn your face, because soon funeral knells will toll The poisonous clove will soon sprout, I have an iron hand in my velvet glove And you will finally fall from your God ****** grace The yellowish waxy rotten tone of your face will melt Under the fires of justice that have become scarce Watch my hand you fed undo the blades from my belt Any last words, coward, before my rage hits your rib-cage, loafer? Anything to say, threatened by the horrific scythe, loser You poor excuse for a man, let alone for a fallacious father You used to lift me up to the glories of the skies and call me 'my daughter'... Were you begging me to spare you, begetter I would turn my heart away from you, rather This sturdy bone structure of yours handed over to the reaper. He whom despises mercy to reason deserves neither I wish I could pretend believing we never saw it coming But what is the point of keeping your head high When nothing remains in you, not even the faintest sigh You are going to expire and yet, not even your lips are moving. Were you begging me to love you, as you pant I would tell you that the clock is adamant, We both are well aware time has now run out Anything...? - you have been ruled out. December, 27, 2013