I love the strong, dominating voice of the poet in this poem.
I am the fury that burns through your veins,
I am the shadows that chases you,
the smogshielding your eyes
cannot protect you from the truth.
The truth is you are unworthy;
unworthy of your first breath,
the exhilarating flutter of your heartbeat,
and the shivering hope of your soul
that makes you uniquely weak.
I promise you a swift, painful death,
that includes erasing your imprint
fromthe face of the Earth. Death by holy fire,
red-yellow, orange-dawn, mists pigmented with
crackling, whimsical pinks and majestic purple–
I will be your Death
and your Savior.