I walk with the ghosts of my yesterdays

I walk with the ghosts of my yesterdays
Yesterdays when my diet was dark blue poison
And yet, and yet, no today can be worth as much
But I do not decry tomorrow, for which I labour today
I am but an apprentice now, but the day will come,
It has to come, for it has always come before
And before my assumed siren charms, my Merlin
Like those of yore, will disclose his deepest secrets
And I before embarking on my mission, will see
The great enchanter bound in ordinary vines,
No Promethean chains are required here.
Then will I brew my poison, far deadlier than
What I as worthless taster was forced to drink- and live.
No Lucrezia Borgia, No Cleopatra and no Mata Hari
Would have known the list of my venomous ingredients
For their need was never as great as mine. Why poison in
Your arts, Helen, when but one look and Menelaus forgot all the past
And Paris remained but a name; nay rather a footnote?
No Savanorola, no Antony and not the victim of Achilles' wrath
Are my targets, indeed, they are less than ordinary men, women,
Children and so on to the smallest Amoeba which started this cursed process
Called existence, life or being;will be the Victims of my revenge
For their dancing drowned in the wine of life, while I waited, wallflower as always
Coming forward only when summoned to carry out my role as official taster
To taste those poisons which have dyed my throat as blue as Shiv's.
Yet I lived and that was but for today, when my friends, the chained and
Tortured spectres of my yesterdays, throw off their chains and change shapes with
Writhing snakes, ready to join me in the dance of destruction for others and my triumph
Yes, today it is my turn to dance, with my spectral companions, a female Kalki
Come to destroy, not just the unjust but indiscriminately- force the poison down!
I command and as one by one all that was alive but me, collapses screaming in agony
Victims of my poison which has no antidote, then will i treat them to the glorious
Spectacle of my dance, their death rattles my anklets, their screams the savage music
I dance in tune to. When nothing, nothing is left, not even the snakes, then will I
Reign alone, ecstatic though with bleeding feet. And when asked by myself, for none else Remain, why punish those who did you no harm - I will screech with maniacal laughter
And reply that it was far too much trouble to count and divide and were there any
Such really anyway, anywhere? Then when the questioning stops, and there is but the
Reverberating silence and me, I shall raise my hands to wipe the sweat of the dance
From my face, and in sheer shock and disbelief will encounter tears- no, not for even one
That perished, I realize, but for me - Lilith, the wandering Jewess,
Revenge complete, but unable to die; as poison, not blood flows in my veins.