They say revenge is a dish best served cold.
Well, it’s also a disgusting gourmet,
Eaten by those people to whom are told,
Those mad men who thought they’d act as they may,
Or those fools who can accept playing pranks.
It’s a human food, unknown to wild beasts.
It’s served by a waiter given no thanks;
A waiter who wants no part in the feast.
It’s a rotten salad with poisoned dressing
Which destroys parts of the soul when eaten;
Devilish deserts with damning blessings,
A raw, bleeding steak which, left unbeaten,
Infects consumers, killing the innards
But leaving the victim alive, just so.
The gourmand, though, serving the ripe dinner,
Has died, leaving only a husk to show.
They say revenge is a dish best served cold.
They should say it’s an evil, lethal drug.