Revenge: it's a dream of flames fueled by scorched remains that are lit to a torch and brought back upon the one who burned you.
A Drunkard accuses a Drunkard...A sot became extremely drunk - his legsAnd head sank listless, weighed by wine's thick dregs.A sober neighbour put him in a sackAnd took him homewards hoisted on his back.Another drunk went stumbling by the first,Who woke and stuck his head outside and cursed."Hey, you, you lousy dipsomaniac,"He yelled as he was borne off in the sack,"If you'd had fewer drinks, just two or three,You would be walking now as well as me.
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A Drunkard accuses a Drunkard...A sot became extremely drunk - his legsAnd head sank listless, weighed by wine's thick dregs.A sober neighbour put him in a sackAnd took him homewards hoisted on his back.Another drunk went stumbling by the first,Who woke and stuck his head outside and cursed."Hey, you, you lousy dipsomaniac,"He yelled as he was borne off in the sack,"If you'd had fewer drinks, just two or three,You would be walking now as well as me.
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This isn__ how things were supposed to happen. I was supposed to be me. Not this.
Blame is the creed of the disempowered.
It ain't the blows we're dealt that matter, but the ones we survive.