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Why do you survive when no one rejoices in your return? You've disappeared for longer than an eternity, why has no one missed you? Yet you enter our presence as though you've never gone, your smile unchanged and your heart open. Your trampled, weary heart so open. Your strength is inspiring yet so unrealistic. You love without love returned, but when you hate, your wrath can be felt through every nerve, every vein, every pulse that vibrates through our hearts, and we feel your hatred. Your eyes cast death into our souls, tears streaming down. Look what we've done to you. We have driven you to this: to eradicate. Although our hearts begin to slow, we consider no remorse for your wounds, thus slowing down hell. Torture as your only weapon, we fall to your feet and under your shadow we cry for anything but forgiveness. We wish our lives reinstated for no incentive in return. May forgiveness come in the form of a nearer retribution. Anything to halt the anguish you bring to us on this night. Sorrow does not wander near our lips and you fail to understand why. As do we. Our pride stands tall behind unbreakable armor, such walls that even we cannot begin to crumble. Fear replaces sorrow's chair and dinner is served to the expected. Vengeance comes veiled as something desired and you accept it ignorantly and acquisitively. You'll fall six feet tonight by my hand not. The tables have turned, and still you will never understand the meaning of the word irony.

Learn more about this author, Wendy Nessl.
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