by Robert Hayes
Revenge can take on many forms, least of all murder.
(The butcher’s daughter)
By the door she lays in wait
As her victim takes the bait
She looks to him to feel her hate
For now he answers for her rape.
A daughter to the butcher clan
Blade in hand she takes a stand
Like cattle before abattoir
She carves in him her signature
Conductor of the blades despair
His open wounds taste the air.
Flaccid now his butchered state
The crime committed sealed his fate
Body quartered, and cuts revealed
Shed feeds her dogs one last meal.
With noose in hand, the rope now waits
The executioner finds his date.
Tears absent, she faces death
The leaver drops, she takes a breath
Her body jerks, then at ease
The hangman’s trade has set her free.
Leaving now this world unkind
Her mortal body left behind
Buried deep within the ground
Her soul it weeps without a sound.