Wrath

An iron fist and bloodred eyes

He can't resist revenging lies

A storm is filling up his skies

Accursed ground where mercy dies

x

This is his kingdom and his throne

The tyrant rules, yet overthrown

His rage turns him slowly to stone

He's ruled by wrath, yet rules alone

x

Resentment fills his broken heart

From sanity he does depart

The gavel falls, your fate is sealed

For it is Justice he does wield

x

Or maybe it is wielding him

The hand of Justice, on a whim

His brand of justice reeks of sin

His brand burns bright upon my skin

x

The tempest born out of his rage

A temper tantrum, centre stage

It claims his soul, consumes him whole

It's calling out to him - his cage

x

He can't control himself you see

His fury blinds him to the key

All that he knows are these shadows

That gather underneath the tree

x

They haunt him everywhere he goes

Like bad spirits his judgement froze

Now they defrost, he'll pay the cost

Of taking a most wrathful pose

x

This is the third in a series of seven poems on the Seven Deadly Sins; if you're interested, you can find the other six here: Pride, Lust, Sloth, Gluttony, Envy, Greed.