An iron fist and bloodred eyes
He can't resist revenging lies
A storm is filling up his skies
Accursed ground where mercy dies
x
This is his kingdom and his throne
The tyrant rules, yet overthrown
His rage turns him slowly to stone
He's ruled by wrath, yet rules alone
x
Resentment fills his broken heart
From sanity he does depart
The gavel falls, your fate is sealed
For it is Justice he does wield
x
Or maybe it is wielding him
The hand of Justice, on a whim
His brand of justice reeks of sin
His brand burns bright upon my skin
x
The tempest born out of his rage
A temper tantrum, centre stage
It claims his soul, consumes him whole
It's calling out to him - his cage
x
He can't control himself you see
His fury blinds him to the key
All that he knows are these shadows
That gather underneath the tree
x
They haunt him everywhere he goes
Like bad spirits his judgement froze
Now they defrost, he'll pay the cost
Of taking a most wrathful pose
x
This is the third in a series of seven poems on the Seven Deadly Sins; if you're interested, you can find the other six here: Pride, Lust, Sloth, Gluttony, Envy, Greed.
About the Creator
Insinq Datum
I'm an aspiring poet, author and philosopher. I run a 5000+ debating community on Discord and a couple of Youtube channels, one related to the Discord server and one related to my work as a philosopher. I am also the author of DMTheory.
Keep reading
More stories from Insinq Datum and writers in Poets and other communities.
Off the Book
It ended like every other stupid idea. Badly, and alone. I’m researching digital confession ethics, he said. A tech ethicist. He gestured at floating data I couldn’t see then pulled out a physical notebook. Actual paper, fountain pen. He held it up like he was showing me scripture.
By Nicky Frankly5 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.