Monte Cristo is Romantic, alright,
But it is the fable for a
Grown up’s life. Cut by years and places,
Yet, not to forget the faces
And to return to the sinner with a sharpened knife.
Meditating on a light that is
As thin as your finger, that
Crawls through the bars, whisper
That lives outside linger; let
Memories and moments replay and replay
So, you get worser, you get cut
And in pain you bleed again and again
As the banquet, elsewhere, plays
Live in the hurt of happier days
And let it harden your flesh
For, Monte Cristo returns —
For, among the ones who denied you
A superior seat the once-damned earns
And those faces after years of pleasure,
You will see, are no more the fresher.
Our weakness is in forgiveness —
More than forgiving, it is negligence
And in being ready to easy let go.
Watch the stupidity in them for a casual while
And you need to screw them all hard; down the core.