Taste this: my vengeance. In your fright
Call me infernal goddess if you must.
Pursued to persecute by right
False oath: your downfall in broken trust.
A lying tongue to crimson turned,
Avenged, slain by the swiftness of my blade:
A furies’ torment. Penance burnt
Into the skin that honour disobeyed.
Wings malted in the warmth of blood,
Born in the night, you every step will hound
Till you pray death may wilt this rud
And in the underworld your soul impound.
*
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/12/19/prompt-mad-hatter/
vic briggs 