Me As Wrath

Stand close, you’ll feel it, my fury. It’s wrapped around me like a cocoon. Poke me, I dare you. Your Ashes will lay there unmoving, the gale so insulted to carry you. Corner me not, I warn. Don’t let loose my suppressed self. I shall not sink low ever again, I plead. Worked hard day and night to mold my iron mask. Whilst you take pleasure when I’m weak, always know that one day I’ll be standing with my head held high and you shall shrivel up like dry, moldy grass. One day you shall beg and kindness I will bestow but I shall take what you thought you never owned. Wiser you’ll be every second. You’ll never be happy again. Poke me again, I dare you.

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