A curse and a pox to you, once a friend, now a foe. A curse to the one who slipped her wŕetched dagger between my ribs and twisted oh so cruelly. To the one turning their head towards split tongued serpents, believing every damnable lie that crosses your path. To you of twisted soul and blackened heart who sits astride the horse of one's ego, may your horse stumble and fall, unseating you from your saddle up on high and cast you into the dirt of humility and realization.
Many serpents whispered into my ear about you, yet I turned a blind ear to them. Perhaps I should have paid them more mind, as I see you could not provide the same courtesy.
Unconditional and unyielding was my love and care, stemmed from true care and genuineness.
Ancestors and gods lay witness to these words, words that I yelled at your retreating form and now solidify here in writing:
A curse I lay upon you, Oathbreaker. One that deeply roots itself in your bloodline, that your descendants feel the weight of your ill deeds. A curse that which you cast upon me gets reciprocated threefold and more. That you feel the exact betrayal that I have. Only if the bearer of the curse realizes and repentance is shown, shall I destroy this page and the curse written upon it.
Sealed in blood, I proclaim it done.
((A few drops and a smear of blood reside at the bottom of this journal page.))
