A poem a week for a year. |
| Vengeance Angarad the Forsaken sharpens the knife of his ambition on the whetstone of his ills. Abandoned by all in the moment of need, alone in the wilderness of Grym, he practises the ritual of memory, counting the score of betrayals and focused only on revenge, enthroned now in his purpose. So fills his life with the bitter gall of hate, his friends now his enemies, prisoner to whatever may befall. Line Count: 12 Free Verse For Promptly Poetry, Week 39 Prompt: Include as many of the following words (or variations on these words) as you like: knife, ritual, throne, befall. |