The Rape Of My Black Daughter Poem by Michael Stephen

The Heat inside grew like a wildfire,
out of control,
hurricane winds blew off the door.
I went at the men like they'd gone at my little girl,
without mercy, without the civility of sanity.
This was blood justice, and death.
The flower they crushed under foot,
for the amusement of their disease
put and end to my life, and theirs.
Vengeance is mine said the Lord.
That night though my heart became as black as theirs,
and I was the only one who could put out the fire and make it right.