A flower of Vengeance,
Birthed from the embers of the hearth within
Its hues, which Majestically Mimic flames,
Sway,
As if it were faltering, stuttering,
Trying to find the right words
To say.
When distraught,
it bellows Like a Beast,
Rising from the recess
Of your soul.
It appears like a small,
Unimportant thing
A meager chore
Left undone,
Or perhaps a shoelace
Left untied.
But don’t be fooled
Look past the smoke screen it has conjured,
Keep your eyelids unfurled,
For this,
This is what it desires
It craves
To be concealed,
It yearns
To be unseen
Why you ask?
So it can sink its talons
And grow roots in your mind,
Distorting
Your clarity.
As it sets its opinion in stone,
You surrender
Your supremacy
You let it take the wheel
As it drives straight towards
The brink
Of your sanity.