The Kill Of Victory And Demise Poem by John Shea
The Kill Of Victory And Demise
Now hidden in alleys on the run
Surrounded by rats and scurvy dogs
I suffer the fate for what once was fun
Droplets of blood litter the fog
I hide in the litter with blades of silver
My life for the gods to pilfer
My bloody chain broke
On my deeds left to choke
Pain is my reward as I perish
For good is the victor
As I rot in hell.
Relish the victory and realize
It was high time for my demise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 11:23:57 PM # 1.0.0.1119
