Seven Sins: Wrath
The fifth sin
Rage. Vengeance. Fury. Destruction. Spite.
He Came Back - Edward Swafford
It was with a hardscaped hand, brushing against mine. He was returned to me. Why did I feel prismed in enjambments of fate and fated actuality, the fractals of him + I?
Frailty cut this familiar air around us into two immutable halves. I was presented with a participle of our past, pluralized, yet this present was sharp and new.
It was infected with rage. He was the tempest’s sleight of animus slew.
We hit the BLURRRRRRRRRRRY town (still hand-in-hand) and I watched as he painted his town ReDrEdReD until so many layers prefaced as edifices, sunk hues and saturation to sable depths.
I couldn’t see a fucking thing, not with all-seeing streetlights and glass house shopfronts drenched in blacker-than-tar rancor.
One. Doorway. LIT UP.
We entered, two figures betwixt crisscrossed chaos-cum-calm, yet calamity was calling. Men lined up - one by one X 1 X 1 - over and ever and (n)ever again they met fleeting pleasure with false dawns of post-coital choler.
He iced his veins with liquid bane and through the pores of my palms, still pressed to his; I felt the burning.
Smoke signals left in wide-awake wakes, why couldn’t they smell the warning? I pleaded with him to “STOP!” but a chimera on his back cupped his ears and all he heard was the infernal monologue within.
Another caught his cathectic eye, a cholinergic chemical R-E-A-C-T-I-O-N. This one was just like he, heat-seeking the same tumult imbibing of fuck versus fuck.
I stood on softcore legs as my fingers slipped from his. I watched.
A quickening, two sons of Sodom sans halos switched like sacrilege on cutthroat script. This pace, this space, this forsook interlacing. Their sweat turned to ash as I thumbed SOS into both betoken backs of braided muscle, and there it was. My reflection was bare.
It was never he. This night was all me.
© Edward Swafford 2025
It Comes in Threes - H. R. Sinclair
You trollop, troll
treacherous heathen
I pray for your demise
to my God ME.
That’s all I need
and you’ve dared the design,
too many times.
One… Two… Three…
count your blessings,
you’ve have too many,
you’re on your third strike,
time is up.
No time for goodbyes,
for wasted breath,
there’s no ears
open to yours.
Drop to your knees.
You sully our your name,
Mr. Sinful-Swine,
and sit in
putrid pride
with a hollow crown
withering in its
futile falsity
crafted by a forked tongue
with fabrications
that poison the wearer
and its surroundings.
It comes in threes;
the holy trinity,
the stooges,
self pity, pious and pain,
judge, jury and executioner,
vengeance, my knife
and your little prick.
Don’t mind me
I don’t matter,
like that little litter
you contribute,
or the little too much
drink you had,
or the home you burnt
in your fiery rage.
It’s all just matter
so, don’t mind me,
this mind that festers
in poisonous pain,
i’ll pass through you
as your eyes do me
to behind your back
and slide this blade,
a needle in the stack
of hatred you hold
so dearly.
Oh dear,
you are fucked
and hardly know it.
ignorance is bliss
and I’ll piss on your grave.
© H. R. Sinclair 2025
The Mark of Cain - Jozef Cain
When you look at me with disdain I smile For the moment you step to me I'm wild You got a family I smile I got nothing to lose I'm wild Your daughter will visit you at the graveyard or prison visitation if you do more than those words but go ahead talk your shit but mark my words step to me and witness wrath for mercy was my nervous laugh and the way i walk i'm a lover, not a fighter i am not a tough guy so you may think i'm a pussy and i ain't no killer but don't push me i won't square up cuz i got nothing to prove but if you enter my circle one of us is dying
© Jozef Cain 2025
Portrait of a Woman in a Residential Facility - Annie Lure
Woman, sipping whole milk, his sperm
clotting your eyelashes, you swear upon
the cicatrix cross of your impromptu tattoo
and straitjacket gift bow. Woman, wrapped
in a cheesecloth of frost,
treading naked in the garden,
you gather dandelions and the stares
of children sticking like needles
on the arms of balconies. Woman, their eyes
appear silvery in morning’s sun, and your urine
drips the last Naiad. Woman, you cast your chalice
of an eye upon the swarthy girl. You want
to snatch her away, comb her haphazard
hair, and lay her to sleep with a butterfly
kiss on her forehead. Woman
with a body tinier than your heart.
© Annie Lure 2025
Too Late - Neth Williams
You really had to do it You couldn’t hold back, couldn’t resist. You didn’t need to put the screw to it. But, might as well, No point knifin’ a back if you don’t give it a twist. Too late to try to get back on my good side Too late to undo, Too late to keep from showing your hand Too late, I’m on to you. And I have all the time I need. Time to piss on your welcome mat Time to invade your work and family. Time to do things you know and things you don’t Time to make it impossible to link to me. So many options at my disposal All I could do was whatever I want. I could come at you aggressive, Though, I prefer nonchalant. I could make you anxious, or excited I could make you afraid to be awake or fall asleep. I could have you grovel, beg me to stop I could drive you to give me an apology. But, time has taught a thing or two or three. It’s too late to do what I would have once Too late, you lucky bastard. Too late for me to say I don’t know better Too late, for peace, I’ve mastered. Hatred corrupts our cells from within Cortisol attacks the body like poison we wish the other to drink I know its too late for you to change Too late for you to step back and think. You’re going to die all alone, Your back will be full of knives. Knowing this, I smile so hard That it brings tears to my eyes. I can smile, having done the math. It’s too late for you to go back. I know what lies at the end of your path. And its way worse than any wrath.
© Neth Williams 2025If you’ve missed any of the four preceding collections in our Seven Sins series, here they are…
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Another day, another SIN.
Amazing work from everyone involved ^_^.
I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but...this collection is something else.
Let's burn the world. 😈 🔥