Title: Revenge
Rating: PG to very mild PG-13, because of violence and depth.
A/N: This was written to make the reader think. The theme of this poem is finding the
good in something very bad. If any of you have had something terrible happen, wait a
couple of months or years, and you can probably see a good consequence that came from
it. Thank you. Please read and review.

My spirit floats, always beside him,
For I have expired and cannot rest, until I have revenge.
My haunted lover knows what I require: he wishes it too.
A sword by his side, dagger in his boot,
And swift, pure poison, his deliverance.
His eyes shut tightly with concentration,
I feel a twinge of doubt.
"Fear not," I tell him. "I give you courage and hope,
For I have faith in you and cannot rest, until we have revenge."
He smiles weakly, he who is the only one who hears me, save God.
I see the others pass by him on the street.
"He is mad, bewitched by his dead wife.
Pass him not, lest he infect you."
They do not understand that justice must be done, and I cannot rest, until we have
Revenge for slaughtered, noble soldiers.
What had been their crime?
Defending, guarding, protecting our homeland.
That man destroyed our homes, but not our spirit.
Desecrated our customs, which enraged us to fight.
Mutilated our bodies, but not our souls.
Only one Being lays claim to our souls.
An empire gained a province, yet failed to convert our people.
So all who rebelled were destroyed…
Save one.
My love, my hope, my destiny, my husband.
Only he remains, unconquered.
Unconquered and resolute.
Through many trials, he finds the man who murdered a nation.
I have no eyes, yet I see his dark ones.
No ears, yet hear his hateful voice.
"Why have you come, prince of a shattered republic?"
"To collect the blood debt you owe, and dearly shall you pay!
For my wife and I, we cannot rest, until we are avenged!"
The man undulates with breaths of rage.
"Then let the games begin."
The clashes of metal shake this heart of mine that is not truly there.
Who shall have the upper hand?
Then what alights to my non-existing eyes?
A glorious angel, draped in white and gold majesty.
'Tis Gabriel himself, come to protect this lord of serpents and manticores!
"Why?" I scream at God. "Why do you wish him to live?"
My answer comes from Gabriel, unseen by the others.
"It is not his time to die, there is yet good in his wasted heart.
In time, he will heal the wounds he inflicted,
And the world will be just.
It will take the downfall of this man's soul to make him guilty enough to repent.
Everything will be left in His hands."
A sordid man to become good?
Then there is hope.
I know now who must die before the evil one does.
With Gabriel as his shield, the man fights on,
Until that fatal stroke, a slash across the heart, wounds my beloved.
My body was not with me, yet I felt that same sword, killing me again.
Gabriel speaks to my falling lover, and he understands.
On his knees, O, that final act!
He brings up his sword to vertically scratch another mark along his chest.
I scream in utter anguish.
With a weak smile of hope in his eyes, he died with a cross engraved on his body.
So much for revenge…

A familiar presence floats by me, holding my hand.
"We can go home, now," he says.
In his strong embrace, we fly upward and away.