The Fight for Vengeance
After Mother died,
tears flowed from our ten eyes.
I became the woman of the house
despite being the youngest.
Missing her became easier
knowing my father and brothers
would always support and protect me.
Father was a passionate protector
for the weak and oppressed.
When our kingdom’s burdens
became too much to reasonably bear,
Father and other men
took up arms to fight for relief.
Tears flowed from our eight eyes
the day he didn’t come home,
and six arms buried him.
Our eldest brother took Father’s place
at home and on the battlefield.
Four arms buried him,
but only my two eyes
overflowed with tears.
The next eldest brother
took my tears as a reason to fight
and joined others still fighting
as our kingdom’s burdens only increase.
Only two arms bury that brother.
I refuse to cry
and encourage the last of my family
to follow in our brothers’ footsteps.
But he walks the well-worn path anyway.
I have to bury my last brother myself
and live in an empty house
where once love and laughter permeated.
No one is left to go to battle
and no one is left to offer comfort.
Those who would always protect me
abandoned me for vengeance.
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