“Revenge is a dish best served cold,”
someone said; but it burns in your veins,
beating you without remorse until
the heat sears out sweet reason,
with its cool, calm attempts at peace;
its urgent rationale adds fuel to the fire
which smelts the mind,
melts the soul in white anger.
Who looks at another with hatred
commits murder in their heart;
he has killed her over, she thinks,
it is time for him to depart.
But the plattered head, barely cool, chills her,
and revenge is frozen by his still-speaking eyes.