There is a side to me that most will never know.
And few will certainly see.
A desire for vengeance and retribution.
And some have already seen.
I have clashed with many men
If that's what you can call them.
To hell they are condemned.
I have scars laden on my face.
Each one a subtle reminder of my stance and place.
The Lord God has carried me in his grace.
Through all kinds of hell full place.
Miserable retches faced me
My only pledge let it be.
No one is indebted to me.
Nor am indebted to them.
Though some nights I seldom rem.
Insomnia from pained memories
Some that are not even mine.
Though somehow those same fists met my bloodied side.
I could have ran, retreated and began to hide.
And waited like a coward for it to all subside.
Instead I charged wayward in.
Not realising the trouble that it might bring.
So much violence and so much debauchery
Makes me wish I could hex those with white sorcery.
Alas, there is no magic other than courage.
And that is something I had.
Writers note: If, you think I'm a zealous pig you need to remember you probably have no idea what this poem is about. Disclaimer: I have never forced my beliefs upon anyone in anyway shape or form. This is about unfortunate events. Thanks for reading ...