Not for me

It is not for me to seek revenge,
I no longer need it.
It will arrive at his front door in the least unexpected way.
It won’t knock and ask to be let in.
Or call through the letterbox in a friendly voice.
It is already there beside him, a soft sibilant voice,
It doesn’t say too much right now, not enough to bother him,
But that voice will get louder.
That soft toned voice will become hard and bitter.
It will eat away at him little by little,
Like a wild animal devouring its prey,
Drip,
Drip,
Like a tap that won’t turn off,
It will erode away the veneer that protects
His inner sanctum, his conscience.
He will then, for the first time,
Be overwhelmed by feelings of
Need,
Love,
Loss.