Dickens' Revenge

"A murky red and yellow sky,
And a rising mist from the Seine,
Denoted the approach of darkness."
And you stood there
Like a black and white photograph
Still and intricate like revenge

But only Dickens says it best:
"It might be twice
Or thrice running...
The delicate foot
Mincing in this slough of blood and dirt"
For revenge is delicate;
Sharp as a blade,
It cuts deep

Black crayon lines
The eyes of deceit
Pretty lies decorate your words
A delicate cliche
A weird contradiction

And you stood there
Like a black and white photograph
Still and intricate like meaninglessness
You wink, you smirk
You feed, you devour
You pretend
And Dickens again,
"Like a shadow
Over the white road"
You die

Like a hook dangling
Above the water
You tease the victim
Then lower for the kill
The perfect recipe for revenge

Flip the table
Throw down your hand
It's a losing game
And you're spiraling downward
Into a pit of yourself

And you stood there
Like a black and white photograph
Still and intricate like nothingness