Metaphysical Frauds and Other Paper Gods

It goes without saying that this will end in science fiction but it is based in non-fiction---

***

I sat up one night after the ultimate affront and read poetry to soothe my aching psyche. Now my self esteem was not utterly toppled but I had been a childish and naive woman. Infantile. I had trusted when my gut told me I was being made a husk, a dry and empty thing with a bank account to match. I am woman. I was scorned. I was infuriated. Or rather I was until I stumbled upon the words that expressed exactly what I was thinking when I ran across a catalog of bullshit...And then I received a visit from The Sable Sovereign--

When I die
--- when i die i hope no one who ever hurt me cries
and if they cry i hope their eyes fall out
and a million maggots that had made up their brains
crawl from the empty holes
and devour the flesh that covered the evil
that passed itself off as a person that i probably tried
to love--
(Nikki Giovanni)

***

The Sable Sovereign, who reigned for more than a thousand years, stood surveying her stolen territory. This property had been usurped and the offenders would pay dearly. Hell Hath No Fury..."how apropos" she mused...

"Suffer, you who joys in my suffering. I turned my innards out and wept blood into a dusty hard and cracked soul. Yours. Double Dealing, two-sided snake, serpent, liar, hypocrite.
how I marched hard through your waste to get to the real flesh of you.
The meat was gristle.
You were hollow and without nutrients. You are food for none. Not even fit for yourself."
The Sovereign now knew---

What is it that we do with False Gods?
You are one of ; the deceivers; the users; The so-called puppet masters.
As we have done in antiquity there will be No simple shunning or mockery for you.
The Sovereign will not turn the other cheek for it bears her tribal affiliation and she would not humiliate them further by honoring you further....that is the only right way.
It is, as the Norse ones had....your Twilight my Little Tin God.
Live hearty for now my friend--light will shine and burn the coal of your tongue to a cinder. Your own sad carcass betrays you even now as your body feasts upon itself while you sleep.
Pay what you owe or have it wrested from you before your lackeys.
I am your Shylock and I will have my pound of flesh. I will reap my harvest from you.

I am not mortal and I don't have to forgive a damn thing...you will never again pass yourself off as a King or God and you will admit your failings. You Will bow to the Sovereign and you will be better for it.

*****

This was written about a month ago and I just got around to editing and posting it. I was in a funky place at the time and have since been soothed by my own endeavors and by the attentions of grown men. I told my tale of scorn to the Sable one and she relayed a story of her own where she did opposite of myself. She took the low road and ripped her betrayer from gullet to groin with Talons of pure Obsidian, turning the monster to dust. I had the same fantasies for revenge but opted to take the high road. My betrayer owes his debt to the universe and who am I to interfere with that kind of Divine Karma?
Be peaceful friends you never know who holds the key to your salvation...You never know who will keep your secrets---I get your Stop Snitching references now Don! I truly get it.
I took the high road....
Peace Friends