You are my easel

The sword is my brush

The ward fell silent as truth poked through its ugly head

The broken promise of a hounded liver

Lifes final attempt at retaliation

The tears fall in vain

Agonizing like a round of bullets

And the women use them like ammunition

An insight so blinding it hurts

Silence will not go unnoticed

Vengeance will not go uncherished

Their blood is my wine

The landscape my chalice