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That Which Cannot Be Mended
I stood before the council
And they passed judgment
Never, they shouted,
Never again
Shall this creature
Touch upon our streets
Nor foul our air
Nor mold our bread
Let it be kept in the dungeon
Until, in the purity
Of the laden moon
We cast it
Into the Lands of Filth
A gaping hole
Was ripped in my heart
I tried to fill it
With rage
How could they dare
To banish me
To name me a “creature”
An “it”
When I was foremost
Among them
Their kin
Their savior
None in the Lands of Filth
Were safe
From my wrath
But I took no joy
In the slaughter of savages
Only one thing
Could satisfy the beast in my soul
Many years
It took me
Many long years
Of bitter scheming
Before opportunity
Came to call
And now?
With the corpses
Of my hated foes
Cold beneath my feet?
The hole
Is still there
And the beast
Lurks within
The hour is come
That my dream
Is fulfilled
And the hour is past
That my life
May return
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This article has 25 comments.
I liked it! its really powerful. I love your thought prosses behind it!!
Could you maybe read one of my poems i dont care wich one you pick.
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Favorite Quote:
Gil: I would like you to read my novel and get your opinion. <br /> Ernest Hemingway: I hate it. <br /> Gil: You haven't even read it yet. <br /> Ernest Hemingway: If it's bad, I'll hate it. If it's good, then I'll be envious and hate it even more. You don't want the opinion of another writer.