A Bloody Battle Won
A lesson in revenge and strength

He rides his demons hard, trashing their attempts of escape,
When they struggle against the reins, he quickly whips them into shape,
They stand no chance against his strength and newfound wisdom,
Grovelling on their knees as they shuffle and scrape.
👺
Once upon a time, his demons were in total control,
And they made him pay with his sacrifices and pain,
He traversed their nightmares whenever they were on a whim,
Partaking in their dark games of torture and maim.
👺
Years passed as he lived with his head hung low,
Bars soldered into the forefront of his mind,
Locked and loaded, tortured whenever he fought for himself,
Until he writhed in the heat of his barricades confined.
👺
Day after day he wallowed, certain this was his destiny,
Almost, remember almost, accepting his lot in this way,
However, there was a tiny spark alive and festering,
One solo thought that refused to accept he’d have to stay.
👺
Slowly there was an ignition of determination, stubbornness,
That festered alive deep down inside,
Growing bigger on a daily basis, planning, willing, wishing,
Not quite ready just yet, so it was allowed to hide.
👺
Then when the time was right, everything fell into place,
His strength rode the heatwaves of his imprisoned dwelling,
Rising until he became a monster, far scarier than some tiny demon,
Growling and destroying, destructively rebelling.
👺
That monumental day he quelled his demons flat,
Gaining the control that they fought to master,
He soon pulled them into line, much to their extreme horror,
Grooming them in their new life of disaster.
👺
Now he rides them hard, never allowing them to forget
The torture they laughingly dealt out when he was at his lowest,
Revenge — oh boy — revenge sure is sweet,
Heavily extracted against them all, especially the slowest.
👺
His strength is his power, his demons will never be able to resist,
And thoughts of their escape no longer enter their deviant minds,
They’re well aware he has their number, engraved upon his soul,
He’ll never forget and if they try, he takes great pleasure as he reminds.

Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.
If you enjoy this piece, you may enjoy this one too.
Please visit my website if you'd like more information on my newly published book, Battle Angel : The Ultimate She Warrior.

Originally published on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.