Wrath of Time
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In the arena of wrath, patience takes hold.
A silent predator, waiting to unfold.
With icy breath and a frozen heart,
Revenge embarks on its chilling art.
The thawed memories of a bitter past
Linger in the shadows, refusing to be cast.
But time, my friend is a cunning foe.
It knows how to mend and let blow.
Patiently, it weaves its intricate design,
Akin to a spider spinning a web divine.
It waits for the idyllic moment to strike.
To cast justice on those who inflicted the spike.
The hours turn to days, the days to years,
As revenge simmers, fueled by silent tears.
But vengeance is a dish best-served cold.
And time ensures that God sees it all unfold.
Written: June 15, 2023
Copyright © Sotto Poet | Year Posted 2023
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