Be cautious with your wishes
The old and wise would say
For things you think you long for
May turn a crooked way
A vow once spat in passion
May cool under the dawn
The searing prick of curses
Grow soft as time rolls on
The bitter root you savored
A poison will become
The rotted heart, the unctuous soul
With every breath more numb
Weigh careful with a blind eye
If righteousness you crave
The crumbling, putrid innards
Of that shrewd ire you save
Be cautious with your wishes
The sage and elder warn
The hurt you cast before you
Within you will be borne
