Lone Wolf

I met a man in anguish
He swam in it like too hot water
Agitated and blistering with regret
That he lived
While others more worthy had died.
Life, he told me, was unkind and unjust
When a man of promise he knew, was snapped
Away, without reason, or compensation,
While he, poisoned with old guilt,
Drew in health, despite past misdeeds.
He had killed innocents for misleading causes
And waited now
For sanctified lightening to strike him down in righteous justice.
Yet each new day, the sun warmed his face
He raged and cursed that death had not yet taken him.

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