Justice?

Verbally lashed,
Unjustly accused.

The moral high ground is mine.

I did not wrong, I am not to blame.
In the end I am the one in the right.

Verbally lashed,
Vulgarities thrown.

The mediator falls, having tried only to be the voice of reason.

She had tried to keep it civil,
She had tried to stay so fair.
In the end she was betrayed,
By the boy who laid the blame on me.

Betrayed by he that she was fighting for,

Temper lit,
flaring high,
burned her wings,
now she will cry.

Crying for the poisons that he spat at her.
She only tried to help,
Trying to not let the fight flare so high.
Tempers lit,
and now she cries.

She is hurt. What sort of winning is this then?
It is a Pyrrhic victory as my fighting force is gone.
Saddened now knowing that the one who tried to stop the fall,
is the only one who has felt like she has lost.
Saddened that the one who cries,
Was the most blameless one of all.


Until next time...