Poetry in Narrative.

From Ashes to Vengeance.

From Ashes to Vengeance.

A jolt came in and slightly burned.

Within a flash of light that darkness turned.

There, standing in a line; I awaited fate.

Or to hear my name called to pass the gate.

For hours I waited like a lonely gimp,

when finally there came, six tiny imps.

They pulled me down as I kicked and screamed

far into the pits of Hades itself, it seemed.

Billowing smoke then rose around Allister himself.

Who glared upon me, as if testing my wealth.

Rocky spires climbed, piercing the pitch dark

as he waved mighty hands high in an uncanny arc.

Becoming surrounded by minions, chanting and such.

I laughed at their mockery. I didn't deserve this touch.

I knew that I'd sinned! Even done some miss deeds;

but, I felt it was my life giving force that they'd need.

From creations day, the gift was to hear.

Not to turn a blind eye and ear.

These misshapen forms only wanted to leave,

and any chance was better than none to cleave.

As Allister called forth flames to devour me whole;

they spurred about me, raising my very soul.

I can't explain what happened as that light appeared.

But, felt divine intervention when those flames cleared.

My soul rose higher as a sword fell into my hand.

It was then and there I knew, what it was to command.

I was now Vengeance brought down, to try and test.

To seek out others who longed to attest.

My feet touched the ashes as his demons rushed in,

while the sword of truth cut through all of their sins.

Body after body dissipated in a puff of smoke.

Then rose, becoming more hell fire to matte and choke.

The carnage raged from hours to days galore,

till others came rushing, heading the rapport.

And I, who was nothing, gave them a fighting edge.

A chance to once again believe. To become a living wedge.

To shake the very foundation holding those broken,

and give victory to the lost numbers, so timely unspoken.

There on ashes floor we waged war against a horde.

We fought for a place to become just like my sword.

Truth was its calling, as was I, the wielder of its metal.

We would no longer serve blindly or even to settle.

As Allister grew bolder, being second in command,

we charged in defiance on this once angel of a man.

He fought long and hard to reap all that could be sown;

until a light shown down upon him and out he was thrown.

There we all stood once more in a line.

Clouds all about us, we looked like ravaged swine.

Each faced their own injustice as it was recalled,

and each knew what strength had called on them all.

Some were still sentenced by their own grim mistakes,

while I stood surrendering the sword of Truth at the gate.

But, before I was judged they gave me one final charge.

To go back down or to settle things by and large.

So I chose to surrender that sword and to leave.

For I did not belong as of yet, with those that believed.

I belonged with mortal men, for vengeance is a test.

It either becomes rage or is placed for you to be your best.

Either way I vanished as fast as the first jolt that came.

Within a flash my eyes seen light, then came sharp pain.

A quick smack on the ass and then my eyes shot wide;

now I must learn once more how to decide.

Could I become wise or would greatness be my own fall,

and this was the calling I now knew waited for us all.

To serve as a witness to those tiny things once missed,

and learn to love with a heart that had been kissed.

A.o.R.