~Esther Mitchell, 2015~
I am all who will avenge my death,
Written in bright sparklers in cosmic depths,
A memory more fleeting than a cloud,
But you will hear me.
You will hear me in the roar of fire,
As it sweeps away all you held more beloved than me,
You will see me in the flash of lightning,
Breaking your sky with terrible, beautiful warning,
You will feel me in the lash of the wind,
As it flays your flesh and bone with the same ice you showed me.
When I am gone from this place,
You may believe yourself well rid of me,
You may think yourself well served to forget me,
But I promise you,
In death, I will be an Avenging Angel,
No longer content to sit meekly by,
No more willing to be invisible.
In death, I will be Wrath, reborn,
Measuring your sanity as a Fate measures thread.
I will whisper you awake in the night,
With the screams of a Banshee, unleashed,
And you will remember my name, my face, my story,
You so callously cast aside as I lived.
I may not be strong enough, in this skin,
To stand toe-to-toe and demand decency,
But with shedding this skin, I shed all that holds me back,
I remove all the chains used to hold me down,
I become a force of Nature, without this flesh,
And like a force of Nature,
I will sweep away all that has ever barred me.
The only way to escape the path forged by the tornado in my soul,
Is to prove yourself no threat to me, now.