Stabbed at night, again and again
“Et tu, Brute?” words I crave
Body’s a shrine; now massacred
But the soul desecrated. Dig my grave.

Paralyzed, mind lagged behind time
Realization hurt when it came
I cleansed my skin till it shone
While every crevice wept in shame.

Millions of strange shadows creeping behind
Hate, Despair, Anguish and Vengeance
Each burning like a torch that never dampens
Cursing his roar of laughter at my pitiful defense.

Every night dark wings flopping
In my heart. Each a Retribution bird.
An avenging Vulcan with its claws sheathed
Justice, Satisfaction; Sense comes in a poor third.