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. 


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