This day is the day I put a culprit to rest,
I bloodied my saber inside of its chest.
I blind it with torment, cleaned out its core,
Ruptured its organs and dressed it with gore.
A sinner it is, covered in scales and horns,
With a beautiful sheath but a heart full of thorns.
I will, with all might, sever its wings,
Drown it in sorrow, and hang it with slings,
Send it to the bottom of a far, distant shrine.
For I am its magistrate; I am its mind.
The duty has ended, I mustn't dwell anymore,
For here I lay lifeless on redemption's floor.
I love the second sentence very well put.. Great poem.. Krista
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fantastic poem, the rhyme scheme did not detract me, it instead drew more of my attention to your writing.