44.The Fire of Vengeance

You think I've forgotten—

that time has dulled the blade,

that the wound you left in me

has healed, its scar faded.

But no, revenge remembers,

it festers deep within the soul,

a quiet flame that waits

for the perfect moment to burn.

I've tasted bitterness

from the ashes you scattered,

watched the world turn

as if nothing had been lost.

But I remember every word,

every lie that twisted the truth,

every promise broken

like glass beneath your feet.

Do you think the past is buried?

That time has erased your sins?

Time is not your ally,

it's the soil where my anger grows.

Each day, it digs its roots deeper,

nourished by the silence

you left in your wake.

I've watched you,

watched you live as though

I were just a shadow,

something you left behind,

forgotten and erased.

But I am no ghost.

I am the storm you didn't see coming,

the thunder before the lightning strikes.

I know the power of patience,

how to wait like the viper in the grass,

still and silent,

until the moment comes to strike.

Revenge is not a wild scream—

it is a whisper,

a careful breath before the blade falls.

I've sharpened mine on the memory

of every wrong you did,

and now, the edge gleams bright.

Do you hear it?

The hum of vengeance in the air,

the quiet song of justice twisted

by the bitterness you planted.

I carry it with me,

this weight, this fire,

and it grows stronger with each step I take.

You thought you were untouchable,

that your sins would go unnoticed,

that time would wash your hands clean.

But my memory is long,

and my heart remembers

what yours has tried to forget.

You thought you could bury me,

but I am the seed that grows in darkness.

I have become the thing you fear,

the shadow on your path,

the cold breath that follows you

wherever you go.

You will not see me coming,

but you will know

when the time is right.

Revenge is patient,

it waits with hungry eyes,

watching you live in the light

while I burn in the dark.

But soon enough,

the light will flicker,

and the darkness will swallow you whole.

You made me this,

you carved me from stone

with your lies and your betrayal,

sculpted my rage with every slight.

And now, the statue you built

has come to life,

and it walks toward you

with the weight of a thousand storms.

When I come,

there will be no mercy,

no forgiveness whispered on the wind.

For I have learned that forgiveness

is for the weak,

and I am not weak anymore.

You taught me that.

I once thought of love,

thought of the warmth

that we shared in another life,

before the betrayal,

before you turned your back.

But love has no place here anymore,

only the cold steel of vengeance,

only the burn of justice long denied.

Do you remember what you did?

Do you remember the night you lied,

the day you walked away

as if I were nothing?

I have not forgotten.

Every slight, every word—

they live inside me,

fueling the fire

that will consume you.

I want you to feel it,

to feel the weight of every wrong,

to know what it is to be broken,

to carry the weight of someone else's lies.

You will taste what I have tasted,

feel the burn of the blade

you thought was dull.

I am coming for you,

slow as the dawn,

but inevitable as the night.

I am the reckoning you didn't foresee,

the storm you cannot escape.

I am every wrong you thought you buried,

rising from the earth to take what's mine.

When I find you,

you will know it was me.

The look in my eyes will remind you

of every moment you thought I was gone,

every second you believed

you had won.

But no—

the battle has only just begun.

And this time,

I will not fall.

This time, I will rise,

carrying with me the fire

that you tried to extinguish.

In the end,

revenge will have its way,

and you will fall.

Not by my hand,

but by the weight of your own sins,

the weight of the darkness

you gave to me.

I am not the one you left behind—

I am the one you made,

the one who rises from the ashes

to watch you burn.