18+ A deeper, darker poem about a victim finding his revenge for terrible deeds once done. |
-A Line Crossed- by Keaton Foster Brutal These hands With malice The plan Payback A correction To the ledger An eye For an eye A life For a life I won’t regret What comes next A line crossed An ideal lost I tried to forgive I wanted to forget But I cannot So here I am Gun in hand Solid the plan Two the chest One to the head Boom Alive one second The next dead From me He took it all From him I’ll take the same Killer be kind Not in this instance Reciprocity Demands nothing less Then an equal sin He must die Because in every way I am already deceased When I was a kid A defenseless being He raped the life From my very being He took it all And then He slithered away Lost to us Hidden from justice Until this very day I’ve been watching Planning everything Missing nothing The perfect killing Is about to happen I push the bell A familiar voice Says hello A delivery sir I’m not expecting Anything today I only reply Yes you are He rings me through Come on in Come on up Apartment 3c Down the hall I make my way His end in hand He has no idea But he should He must know In some small way That I’m still out here Existing in his world Of hell on earth He must be aware That sooner or later One day or another That I would be here What he did to me How he did it And why Unforgivable Unforgettable Making him And me Unredeemable He must know He needs to pay And he will As I make my way The fear of it all Fades further away I become numb No longer stunned I am ready Justice in hand For a second I ponder to myself Will he be aware Ready to declare Will he know Why and how come Such things Matter not A line crossed I reach his door Down the hall Apartment 3c I tap on the frame Shallow the thud He calls out I’ll be right there There is no turning back No escape for him or I This must be done I’m his judge His jury And his executioner The door slowly creeks Opening full and wide And there he is He is much older His face wrinkled His hair all but gone His hands bruised Well-worn I look deep Into his stone-cold eyes It’s all still there Just like when I was his son I see the monster he is Not the old man He has become Before I lay waist I say what I must What I have rehearsed A thousand times before Father Tormentor It is me your son Your truest victim I’ve come because I must You killed me once Back when I was a kid You raped my life away Leaving empty Leaving hollow Since then I have been incapable Uninhabitable I died back then And you father Escaped Leaving me In your wake Well now I’m here I found you Just as I’m sure You knew I would I’ve come to kill you An eye For an eye A life For a life I raise my gun Just as I expressed It’ll be Two to the chest One to the head Instant his end But mine As it has Will continue on Before I pull the trigger Before I claim justice served He looks at me a says Son, I’m so sorry For all that I’ve done Please don’t do this Please don’t kill me I want to live I want to be forgiven Please my son Spare me this plan Turn away And forget this place Forget my aged face I don’t reply I refuse Because back When I was his kid I said those same things A line crossed Two to the chest One to the head Down he falls Dead No longer my father No longer a threat But in many ways Still the monster I will never forgive Or forget… A Line Crossed Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2016/2017. |