Riding as One

One to wield the scythe
One to wield the spear
One to wield the shield
One to wield the shovel
One to wield the stiletto.
How far would they go?
How much would remain hidden?
Tales told
round tables
women of vengeance brew
take to the night
violence begotten
men
women
any who slipped
justice’s fingers
due to ineptness
indifference
corruption
hunted
taken down
taken out
like animals
that they are.
Death
avenging
stealth in the shadows
never knowing
where they might strike
nor how far they will go
in the cover up.
Never hit close to home
Never stand close to the hearth
Never allow yourself to be drawn through
you are here
a job to do
everything else
must blind self too.
They ride.
They hunt.
They fear no one.
They herald the arrival at the abyss.
They are the Judges.
They are the Juries.
They are the Executioners.
Together they stand.
Together they avenge.
Together they draw the guilty
to the bowels of hell…..
To be continued……
©Feb. 6/21
Picture via Pinterest

Word of the Day Challenge #77-Untitled Poem

Grotesque
leering faces
drool dripping
liver flacid lips
pursed
desiring
chasing that final kiss.
Words
promises made
money flashed
as thought that could erase
reality
of shriveled bodies
wherein resides ego
which equates to strength
to power
within.
Float along
haze of despair
bought or sold
there are bills to pay.
Actresses all
ignoring the vile looks
groping hands
alcohol laced whispers
walking through
knowing their place.
He is the worst.
Stand aside.
Let me at him.
Porky Pig and his retinue.
Ribald jokes
roaring laughter
eyes meet eyes
and he pulls away.
Come hither
come yon
follow me here
follow me there
follow me out
for my dear…..
death has come calling
no repentance for you.
©Nov. 27/19
Picture via Pinterest