She’s resisting the overwhelming urge
to stand up and eradicate those who
she deems worthy of her personal purge.
In this vendetta, she prepares a coup
to usurp the Rome and ignite the fire
within the oeople she tries to protect.
All around, she sees funeral pyres
for those passed. The wind shifts and she detects
incoming inclement weather. Whether
or not the storm will quickly come to pass
is uncertain. She hates being tethered
to emotion; she’s hoping she can last
long enough to cast aside all her ties.
When someone so great wants to barricade
themselves in their own hell until they die,
you know this happiness was a facade.