Today vengeance whispered
a beautiful poem in my ear.
Each syllable,
a gratifying knife turn
into the creators of my grief.

There is genesis in life.
There is genesis in death.
Twins separated by a single breath.
When the soul is empty,
the sun rise has no meaning
when you share it with
those who have darkened your mind.
There is blood on your hands.
There is blood on the sand.
I will not stop until victory is mine.