Executing the realm of beauty,
puncturing your torturess soul
while the sinister truth exemplifies purity,
the kind you lost along the way.
You can't see that longing,
you can't comprehend that willingness-
the deepest form of revenge-
And with the success,
all that surpasses is the crooked
a pretense definition that karma is mandatory.
It moves me how such a belief holds,
I'll bow to you once more,
one more adieu
and passing by.
But after not one
but two steps away,
you are no longer existent-
like the leaves evaporated by the snagging wind-
wrapping its arms around the oak's leaves-
sucking out the poison of the leaves,
as they drop one
one final time.