...
My Spirit, I dropped
My neck, how tragic!—
Oh, why was I doomed?—
What a shame of love,—
Beset me for living
How poor was my trial?—
That king caught me— Just to be his vice!
Surely, I was a noble queen—
'Til the justice defied me..

Coined by 30 years,— Now deriving for 25 years,
This automatic era seemed haste for me,— Where people work less with limbs,— And more with chained machines
All tenses are verbose,— of such faint vision;— When all the dots meet,—
Perhaps, gallops are faster than wheels.
--...
Whenever I daze in my reflection,
I morbidly feel the bruised mark on my pelvis,— whence Homer penetrated it,— And this slit scar on my nape— of my husband's infidelity
Oh fate, may thou all wrath in flames..

I was not an outlaw!—
Thou all praised a sculpture,—
And smashed it, when it was bore!
Thou bidded swears— To a bedswerver's norms!
My downfall revealed thy disgraced offerings— Traitors!

—My poor, poor queen— Do not weep,
    For I shall be great,— This lady will
    dissect the hypocrites, and clothe
    the faithful—
    I shall be the image of your tragedy
    and glory
    This is the order of my commitment
    I am a ponent;
    I am a defender.

Quote our testament:
"We art the culprits and victims of our own plot. If an admiring rogue invades thy core, it shall weakened thou as culprit into an ever victim— To be held in judgment, and to be both perceived as no innocent."

—The conviction of worldly accomplices,
    This shall be the vengeance of an obsolete sentence.—

Altaira, with me,—
Thou art neither a corpse—
Nor a bit of ash;
'Tis the time for ruling
Your Majesty—
Cheers to the jury..

“Will you destroy something beautiful, just to make it perfect?
Just the way you did with your big, innocent, naïve heart, trying to fit in into this large world with small hearts?”
“Hey moonsick lover!
Do you dare to love a human (again)?
Or do you also think that love is a disease sent by devil, Satan himself from the depths of the burning hell?”
“ Will you be able to un-love someone who broke you into a million pieces?”
“Are you still lovesick? Has anyone had the courage to embrace your open wounds, kiss your scars and mend your shattered, yet caring heart, with his own?”
“Do you still hope that someday, someone will make you whole, again?”
“What if a person comes as your salvation one day, and brings a real smile on your face accustomed for fake smiles?”
“What if that person makes you feel complete again?”
“Now, what if that person, the one who enabled you to heal, is stolen by the world?”

“What happens then?”

“I’ll tell you what happens then. You will gather all your pieces, go down to the burning fires of hell, take help from the devil, come back roaring back in agony, and
WREAK HAVOC ON THIS WORLD!”

I will sit upon the throne of disaster
When the time comes, I'll be dethroned
By something
Far
Far greater
and perhaps i'll obtain some meaning in this life of mine
Perhaps i won't
Doesn't matter
For now, as long as the sun is lit
With an elixir of immeasurable fire
I shall bear the heat
of my broken kingdom
I am wrath
I am the tyrant.

my heart only knows rage
growing, crawling like wildfire
to which my bones will collapse like lilac twigs;

then again, honey,
we do not burn down with the fire — we become it,
should we fall like witches condemned.

then again, honey,
they do not burn; the fire knows its mistress' touch
and today, we have inherited
all the anger, all the wrath, all the names of the men
she held onto for centuries in her palms.

today, she will avenge
all her sisters lynched and effaced
all her brothers starved and gunned
by the very pigs who swore to protect
and the fire will
creep, engulf, and spread,
torching their money and their abusive hands —
their lying tongues and iron fists
burning in cauldrons
they will burn us in,
and the smoke will rise to the heavens
until all that's left are ashes
from where no cruel man will rise.
and the smoke will rise to the heavens
until justice,
like a goddess,
emerges from a foam of embers.

and the smoke will slowly lift —
so will this anger.
so will this wrath.

and it's the sun itself that awakes
to the promise of a new day.