Poetry

The Villain 

I have contemplated the fatality of sin 

For they say evil could never truly win 

The villain is shunned and abhorred 

And for haven he can’t even ask the lord

Morality is made to be of utmost import

Thence the hero warrants all’s support 

For he who fights in the name of propriety

Wears the bloodshed in a crown of piety

Though I believe the paragon and ruffian are on par 

For both wear gallantly their battle scars 

Although one brawls in the name of the people 

Who’s to say the other knows not but evil 

Faded 

The appeal of sunsets no longer prevails 

And the words I write are of no avail 

The stitch of sanity torn at the seams 

I can no longer fathom childlike dreams 

Life has drained me dry of it’s own 

Left me with but bruises to be shown 

However I marvel at it’s ethereal power 

As it churns the brave making them cower

I have become but a shadow of mine past 

Abyss of lonesome hath grown so vast 

I no longer crave being blissfully elated 

For my being has morphed to one so faded

Words Of Last 

I like my kin fear our inevitable sleep

And futilely hope this life forever we’d keep 

Though death it looms and poses threat 

It is not responsible for my constant fret 

I walk on eggshells with the words I say 

Lest I pass with relations gone astray 

Thus “I love you” accompanies goodbye 

And “I’m sorry” I’ll say even when a lie 

Alas that is how I live and shall my remaining days 

For life is fleeting and death will have its way